One late night, I found myself researching “Nicole Kidman plastic surgery.” After binge-watching a series that featured her, I was captivated by her elegance and physique. Her slender silhouette could easily be admired on someone much younger.
Why was I diving into celebrity gossip? Was I trying to uncover whether Nicole had undergone cosmetic procedures? Or was I questioning if natural beauty even exists? I wasn’t quite sure.
What I did know was that my body underwent a transformation after I became a mother. I had always been relatively slim and never kept an eye on my weight. Most people don’t routinely measure their height with a yardstick, so stepping on a scale felt foreign to me.
After my son was born, I dropped the pregnancy weight swiftly. In a family photoshoot taken just 12 days postpartum, I appeared just as I did before pregnancy. I was baffled by other mothers who struggled with “baby weight” long after childbirth. To me, baby weight was simply the weight of the baby and everything that comes with them.
However, the weight loss continued, and it became concerning. Stress from new motherhood, along with breastfeeding and a complete lack of time for self-care, caused my weight to plummet to a worrisome 95 pounds before I realized it. Soon after, I began adding more nutritious foods like coconut oil to my breakfast and indulging in peanut butter fudge shakes. My weight normalized, and I stopped paying attention again.
About two and a half years after my child’s birth, three significant changes occurred: I ceased breastfeeding, started taking two medications for postpartum issues, and gained about 15 pounds. For the first time, I experienced the sensation of weight gain seemingly out of nowhere.
I tried to reassure myself that weight is merely a number and doesn’t define who I am. Yet, I struggled to believe it. Over the years, I had internalized a narrow view of identity tied to being thin, often in unhealthy ways.
When I was thin, I imagined finding a hiding spot during a workplace emergency, fitting snugly between the wall and the copy machine and congratulated myself for being small enough to escape. I joked about confirming my spot at overbooked meetings by saying, “I won’t take up much space.” The message I reinforced in my mind was clear: “I’m thin; I deserve acceptance.”
Then, as my child entered toddlerhood, I faced the reality of a new body. The fluctuations in weight had left me feeling soft and deflated. My humor felt forced, and my closet full of smaller clothes was no longer an option.
I recognized that I needed a new perspective, and searching for information on Nicole Kidman wasn’t the answer. I had to adopt a healthier mindset, especially for the sake of my daughter. At three years old, she was a whirlwind of energy, twirling, somersaulting, and jumping with uncontained joy. I wanted her to embrace her body, no matter its shape, which meant I had to set an example by loving my own.
My post-pregnancy body raised a painful question, but it was my daughter who provided the healing answer. How could I appreciate a body that felt broken? By viewing it through her innocent eyes. My hand became a comforting place for her cheek during long car rides, my legs transformed into a slide, and my arms were a refuge where sadness could be squeezed away.
Most importantly, my body had brought this vibrant child into the world, nurturing and protecting her for nine months and beyond.
As we played together, swinging and tumbling, her laughter reminded me that we are both beautifully made, despite any imperfections.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, the author explores her journey of confronting internalized fat phobia after becoming a parent. Despite her struggle with body image and weight fluctuations, she finds healing and perspective through her daughter’s unfiltered joy, ultimately learning to appreciate her body for its role in nurturing and sustaining life.