I have a confession and I need your help.
Let me begin by saying that I can’t for the life of me believe that I am going to put this out there on the interwebs, but I will. You know at The Evolution of Mom, we are all about being real, being transparent and being supportive. So on this one, I need a little bit of support back.
You see, when I had my newborn, I walked out of that hospital scared out of my mind, relieved that the “process” was over and hopeful. I didn’t look like the recently glamorized royal mom walking out of the hospital, but who does?
Today when I walk out of my front door, I’m still scared out of my mind at what my 10-year-old is faced with in this messed up world. I can’t change that, but what if I’m not here long enough to help guide her through it? I’m left with the fact that I weigh more than the day that I went into the hospital to deliver that rugrat. It’s a little voice in my head that is often so loud; always taunting and always remind me. You might fit into that category too. It’s not uncommon. While we’ve heard that a number cannot define us, it sort of unfortunately does. If it weren’t important, there would be no scales and the doctor wouldn’t make you climb on every time you visit.
Now though, I’m less active than that new mother walking out of the hospital. I worked up until the day that I had her. Today I work…at home. No pressure to run around and get stuff done because someone it waiting on me. If it doesn’t get done today, there’s always tomorrow, right? No pressure to eat a good lunch to get me through the rest of the day because there are snacks at my work. It’s called the pantry. Breakfast? Who needs it? I’ve got a Starbucks shop near me. I’ll just drive-thru there. Does any of this sound familiar?
I’m on the taller side so I’ve always told myself that it’s okay to be a little heavier. I tell myself it’s the few extra inches in height. I finally had two physicians call me out on that B.S. recently. They made me promise I would get active. I nodded politely, but didn’t really mean it. On one such occasion, my husband was even in the room. I nodded in agreement, but I’m sure he saw right through it.
I had an epiphany a few days ago. It’s been a long time coming really, but it stuck its head up and grabbed me by the shirt this weekend. The size XL shirt, I might add. It said, “How dare you encourage your kid to be active when you’re sitting here inactive. Do you think you have to sit here on the bleachers the entire time she’s in the pool? Do you think you have to hover and make sure she’s okay? Do you think you can step off of the bleachers and go outside and take a walk?”
I also had a horrible thought over the weekend. It pains me that it even crossed my mind. We were at a banquet-type dinner. It was one that we had never been to before and it was for something that my kiddo is involved in. By involved in, I mean she goes to practice three times a week and sometimes more. It’s her passion. I hoped and prayed that they wouldn’t call parents on stage with the kiddos. I didn’t want to have to be up in front of all of those people, sucking in my waist, wondering if these jeans make my butt look big. I basically had just told myself that I didn’t want to support my kiddo because of the way I looked, regardless of her accomplishment. How awful is that? I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want the constant worries. I don’t want the “someday clothes” in the closet. You know the ones. You say you might fit into them one day and then you never do?
I see the moms at swim practice that look like they’ve just done some sort of physical activity. You know the ones. They have their hair pulled back, their cute capri workout pants on and a bottle of water in their hand. Their faces sort of glisten, but in a good way. I won’t lie. I sort of want to be one of those moms. Damn it. I DO want to be one of those moms and not because they’re fit and have hot mom bodies. I want to be one of those moms because they’re healthy and they’re setting a good example for their kids.
Then the scaredness comes again. I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know where to begin. I don’t even know what healthy food looks like. What if I can’t run far?
So today, I’m taking myself back. I’m taking back the inactivity. I’m taking back the poor example of what being inactive looks like to my child. I’m taking back my health and I’m taking back the “I’m too tired” and the “maybe tomorrow.” I’m taking back the excuses. I’m taking all of that sh!t back. I’m owning the excuses. I’m owning that I got to this point with my eyes wide open and was okay with it.
Today I’ve changed my mind. Why? Because I have that 10 year-old that looks up to me and who is the love of my life and I have the opportunity to change. I have a loving and supportive husband that rallies behind me and tells me that I can do anything. He runs. I stay home while he runs. I have a gorgeous wedding ring…that I can’t wear because it no longer fits and hasn’t for several years. He on the other hand, never takes his wedding band off. How is that fair to him? Nothing on me says, “I’m with him,” but he wears his, “I’m with her,” every single day.
In the end though, all I have is me. I have myself inside of my head. I have to fight the “why bother” self with the “you can do it self.” Whenever the day comes and I take my last breath, I have to be happy with how I’ve lived my life. So today, I’m doing it. I’m changing my mind. I’m banishing that no good, negative self-talk and owning this situation.
So, I’m going to try this journey of feeling better, being healthier and setting a better example for my daughter. I don’t have my entire plan of action set yet. It’s going to be slow, but it’s going to be permanent. I have a big birthday coming up. I don’t want to be what I am today on that day.
Will you join me on this journey of self-improvement? What would you like to improve about yourself?