Hidden Imperfections of a Mother

I try my best to get on Instagram and make it a fun and uplifting space. The world is so harsh and hard already, I want to make it lighter and brighter and good because I need that even if no one else does. I need some good. 

When I feel the worst is when I work my hardest to fill the world with goodness and happiness because if I can help one of you when I’m at my worst, then I can find joy in that. That is priceless and it’s better than any item or thing I can buy or make.

There’s been a lot of self loathing hidden behind my upbeat and happy notes. When trials come, just as they do for as all because that’s part of life, I feel weak and lost and alone. 

I say the worst things to myself and I’m trying to be better about this, but today I sat in the tub and I look at my body as the water drained. I noticed every flaw. Every dimple. Every stretch mark. I noticed every curve. I watched my body become clearer as the water empty and I saw it for what it was. Nothing was hidden. 

It isn’t meant to be perfect. It isn’t meant to look like anyone else. My body was meant to be what I needed and need it to be. It functions and it works so hard. It pushes past headaches, heartaches, and tears. It works without sleep and cradles babies and kisses boo boos. 

It created two of my favorite people, the most wonderful mixture of my husband and I. It nurtured them, and then it healed. It healed itself as best it could after creating and sustaining two wonderful, powerful lives. 

Who I am I to tell it that it isn’t beautiful for being the very best that it can? When I tell my son and daughter daily that they don’t have to be perfect, but that if they try their hardest that is good enough. Then, I expect perfection from myself. What kind of exhausting life am I modeling for children. I want to be an example of self love and strength and light. I need to live my words. I need to show them with action. 

So, as the water drained completely and I sat in my tub, I put my hand to my belly and I say “Thank you for taking half of me and half of my husband and making life from that wonderful love. Then, I put my hand to my heart and said, “I am sorry. You are good enough. You are strong and lovely. Thank you for working and striving and pushing. Then I stood up, and I wasn’t just clean from a bath, I was free from shackles of perfection.