Back in junior high, my friend Mia playfully placed her hand on my lower belly while we were strolling down the street, enjoying some soft serve. With a grin, she exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, I love this!” There we were, just the two of us, and I didn’t feel a twinge of embarrassment about my little potbelly; after all, she was my best friend. We had shared countless laughs in the Macy’s dressing room, and she had seen me in every swimsuit imaginable, while I desperately tried to hide my belly. It struck me then that I wished I could embrace my belly the way she did. But her flat stomach seemed to make my little pooch feel unwelcome.
I was born with a belly pooch. Even as a lanky kid with long arms and legs, there was always a curve beneath my belly button. When I hit puberty, I quickly learned that the delicious food I loved didn’t just disappear; it settled right on my abdomen and love handles (why couldn’t it go to my thighs instead?). I had sharp edges, but there were also soft curves, and I yearned for a different body—one without this belly.
In high school, I generally wore a size 8, potbelly and all. At one point, I thought that if I could just be model-thin and limit my caloric intake to 1,200 a day, I’d love myself more. I dropped about 20 pounds, but my belly stubbornly remained, a reminder of my natural shape. I could starve myself, but that little pooch was here to stay. Eventually, hunger won out, and I decided to ditch the deprivation, though I still longed for flat abs.
Fast forward to my 40s—after bringing three beautiful kids into the world, I’ve fully embraced my belly. It’s not going anywhere, and I run 40 miles a week not just to stay fit, but because I enjoy the challenge. I can feel that pooch bouncing along with me during every run, and you know what? That’s perfectly normal.
Sometimes we forget that “normal” has a vast spectrum, especially when it comes to our bodies. After having kids, I went up a few sizes, and guess what? I was still normal. My friend Lisa felt down when she went from a size 2 to a size 8 after her third child, but she’s still normal—at both sizes. Another mom I know, Sarah, loves her nachos and margaritas. She walks for her mental health rather than her waistline, and she rocks her size 12 with confidence. Ashley Graham, the fabulous model, is proud of her curves and shows them off without shame; she’s normal too. And then there’s my sister-in-law, who thrives on competition and has flat, rock-hard abs. Yep, she’s normal.
We are all normal. We all want to look and feel our best while navigating the genetic hand we’ve been dealt. It’s easier to admire beauty in others than it is to see it in ourselves. We don’t point out their imperfections the way we do with our own bodies—because that would be downright rude!
Let’s Talk About Our Bellies
They’re sensitive, soft, and protect our uterus. They’re home to the delicious food we consume and have the miraculous ability to grow babies. Every belly deserves love, regardless of its size. Our bodies are beautifully unique just as they are.
Perfection doesn’t exist in a magazine; it’s right here, in the body we inhabit at this very moment. Whether you have a thigh gap, a pooch, or abs of steel, every body is perfect in its own way. So let’s start treating ourselves with the kindness we so easily extend to our friends. You absolutely deserve it!
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Summary
Embracing our bodies, imperfections and all, is essential for self-love. This piece reflects on personal experiences with body image, the spectrum of normalcy in body shapes, and promotes a message of acceptance for every type of body.