Losing — slackermama . com

I’ve read a couple posts out there in the blogosphere about self image/dieting/losing your identity in the swamp that is motherhood. This is an age old issue among women of my age, and yet, this is the first time in my life that I’ve really sat down and thought about it.

I’ve always considered myself unself-coinscious. But I don’t think that’s the whole truth. I think I am self-conscious, but figured my image was a lost cause so why spend any time or energy worrying about it? Which isn’t to say that most of the time I haven’t tried to look nice. But at the same time, my efforts can only carry me so far and nature isn’t interested in picking up the slack on the other side, you know? I’ve never thought I was attractive. EVER. Since I was old enough to have ideas about beauty I’ve always thought I was sub-par. And not just plain, because plain I could handle. Plain melts into the background and no one bothers plain because they’re PLAIN. I’ve always thought of myself as rather, well, ugly. That the features I was born with and inherited honestly through genetics, combine to make me rather unattractive.

For one thing, I have a large nose. I hate this nose. I spend a lot of time not talking about my nose to anyone. Because I hate it and I think it’s possibly the worst feature I have. Wait, no possibly about that. It *is* the worst feature. I got it from my mom’s side of the family. My grandmother had this nose. On her? It didn’t bother me so much because she was grandma and that’s what she looked like. On me? HATE.? The nose alone wouldn’t be that bad, but when paired with the small eyes, the prominent lower jaw the large almost bulging forehead… OH MY GOD, I’m hideous, lookaway! And that isn’t even the whole of it either.

I’m tall. Tall isn’t that bad, but I’m also large boned. Another thing I can thank my mother for (for the record: the forehead and the jaw came from my dad. The eyes, from my mother).? My sister is also tall, maybe an inch shorter, but tall just runs in our family. The difference is she has a more petite build. Her bones are better proportioned to her body. I am built nearly like a linebacker. I have big feet, big hands with long fingers, big wrist bones and large shoulders (I always have cut shoulder pads out of outfits because I DO NOT NEED EXTRA HELP).? Don’t I sound just gorgeous?

So consider for a minute I had all this self-image baggage already lurking in the wings before I got married. And when I got married, I did what a lot of women who find themselves in a stable, happy relationship do. I started to gain a little weight. But it was just that, a little weight. 5 to 10 pounds, thereabouts. Then? Six months after our wedding I got pregnant. I actually didn’t gain a lot of weight for the first 20 weeks They even sent me to see a nutritionist and I had to go in for weekly weigh-ins. I gained about 20 pounds total by the end of the pregnancy. But I wasn’t too worried. Especially when that weight melted off pretty easily after Harry was born. But then the thyroid decided it was DONE doing whatever it is thyroids do and my metabolism took a header. And… there came the weight. A pound here, a pound there. I was busy with a small child so I didn’t really notice and I certainly didn’t have time to do anything about it.

Then we decided to start trying to get pregnant again. And that’s not a good time to be starting a big time diet, is it? We tried. And tried. And tried, tried, tried. Even after the lazy thyroid was discovered, medication didn’t help me lose any of that weight. True, I didn’t gain much anymore. But the damage was done. Then I got pregnant again; 38 weeks weeks later, I lost that baby. But I still had the weight. No, I didn’t gain any weight in that pregnancy, but I didn’t really lose any afterward either. Depression is counter-productive to that sort of thing, you know. A year later we tried again and got pregnant, again. I was only pregnant that time for 15 weeks. Nothing gained, again, but nothing lost, either. And still trying (HOPING) to get pregnant. No dieting, the smallest amounts of exercise. Got pregnant and here, almost a year later, we have our beloved baby safe in our arms. And for the first time in SEVEN years, I’m not pregnant or trying to get pregnant. I’m free, somewhat, to diet and lose some serious poundage. I’m doing the pumping thing, which means I can’t “crash” diet, but then, I’ve never been the sort to do that sort of thing anyhow.

The point of all this is to tell how at the age of 30, I’m finally becoming aware of my appearance in a broader sense. I know there are things about myself that I can’t change. But there are things I can. In the last couple of years, there are things I’ve started to do, like see a hairdresser every 8 weeks. As much as it pains me to spend the money on a haircut, it’s become vital to me to have that splurge. I would love to get some professional highlights or something of the like, but I don’t know if I’m ready to spend quite that much on my hair yet.

I’m trying to improve my wardrobe. I bought some nice jeans last year for $40, the most I’d ever spent on jeans in my life. The problem is they’re now WAY too big. I bought them sort of large to begin with because I am I strict believer in not wearing clothes that are too small for you. But you shouldn’t buy them too big either. So now, post-baby with the predictable pound-meltage, I can take them off without even unbuttoning them. And ya’ll? There’s no elastic waist on these things. You aren’t supposed to be able to do that. So… I need new jeans. I need a lot of new clothes, but jeans top the list.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep trying to lose more weight. So far I haven’t had to do much to lose. I’ve lost over 24 pounds without doing much more than pump milk six times a day and drink a TON of water. Eventually I’m going to have to break out of my comfort zone and do some more hardcore dieting and perhaps (*gasp*) exercise. Perish the thought. And I want to lose this awful vision of myself that I have. I may not be able to change things like my nose or my build… but I can do things to make me feel better about myself. And now that I’m entering the wilds of midlife, it’s the perfect time to lose, don’t you think?

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