She notices your gaze, trailing along her slender figure that society deems ideal. The slight curl of your lips conveys a mix of disdain and perhaps a hint of jealousy, and she catches your eyes flickering away as they meet hers.
To you, she appears to be just “one of those fit moms,” the type that others mock online, mentioned in blog posts with an undercurrent of bitterness, portrayed as the exception to the rule. But there’s so much more beneath the surface.
You see her toned arms and flat stomach, the graceful way she moves as she lifts her son, muscles flexing beneath her skin. What you overlook is the relentless cycle of numbers occupying her mind: the calories she meticulously counts, the pushups she tallies, the tiny cookie crumbs she allows herself from her child’s plate, and the workout minutes needed to burn them off. She’s counting everything that doesn’t truly matter.
You notice her narrow waist, accentuated by prominent hip bones. But what you can’t see is the turmoil inside her, filled not with food but with self-doubt and insecurity. She feels the pinch of nonexistent love handles, a reminder of the love she struggles to extend to herself.
You perceive a fit physique adorned with sun-kissed skin and cheekbones that catch the light. What you don’t understand is the internal dialogue that tells her she must outrun her demons—thoughts of inadequacy that chase her relentlessly. After a long run, it’s not just the physical exhaustion she feels; it’s a fleeting escape from the chaos in her mind.
You see a woman who seemingly shed baby weight within days of giving birth, looking as if she has never carried extra pounds. Yet what you don’t see are the tears shed in silence after years of infertility, battling medical issues that were beyond her control. You miss the heart that aches with the conflict of loving her children while grappling with a body she despises.
You see a “fit mama,” but not the one who questions her own fitness to be a mother every single day. You see a disciplined individual who manages to work out regularly, not realizing the panic that rises within her if she sleeps past 5:30 AM without fitting in her exercise.
You observe a c-section scar resting on her flat abdomen, yet you’re blind to the emotional scars left by an eating disorder that still lingers. You see her playing joyfully with her kids, racing them up the slide, but you don’t grasp the dark thoughts that creep in during those precious moments, tainting her enjoyment and filling her with guilt.
You think she’s fortunate, never worrying about donning a bikini at the beach. But what you don’t see are the tears shed in private, the struggle of finding a flattering swimsuit, ultimately leaving the store empty-handed, convinced that every option highlights her flaws.
You see a size zero, but inside, she feels anything but. You notice a woman who turns heads, while she wishes she could fade into the background. You see a body, but you fail to see her essence.
Are you truly looking?
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Summary
The article delves into the often-overlooked struggles of mothers who appear fit and slender. While they may seem to embody societal ideals, many face deep insecurities, emotional battles, and the pressure of self-image. It’s a reminder that the exterior often masks internal challenges, and true understanding requires looking beyond superficial appearances.