Realization of Self

I think this is definitely one of those moments a former employer of mine called a "BFO". Blinding Flash of the Obvious, that is. Something that is so simple, so stupid, so.... obvious.

I've been looking at this whole thing the wrong way. I've been so upset about my body, and my looks, and my health; but I've been upset because I'm worried that I'm somehow letting down my husband by not being fit, not being his "trainer" wife. I've sat and worried about him no longer being attracted to me and the way my body looks after having kids. I've stressed over becoming morbidly obese like many of my relatives; but not because of the overall impact on my health, or because I'm worried about not being there for my kids. I've stressed over it because I don't want to disappoint him, or have him be as disgusted with me as I am of myself.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband with all of my heart, and I don't think we would ever get to the point of him leaving me because of my looks/body shape or lack thereof. The man I married isn't that shallow or cruel. I've let my insecurities turn into low self esteem, which I've then pinned onto him simply because he's male and I'm scared to ever lose him. Yeah, I've been a real piece of work!

No more. Something clicked this morning, and I can see how stupid, and insecure, and petty I have been; both to him and to myself. He doesn't deserve my mistrust when he's done nothing wrong; and I don't deserve to second guess myself, or live life in fear of something so stupid. What happened to the confident woman that I once was? Who said "I don't care what you think of me". I've seriously gone bitch! I see myself snapping for no good reason (ok, I'll cut myself a little slack since I'm freaking pregnant and hormones really really blow), I've been judgmental, crass, rude, and just plain mean. I've made myself so unhappy that I've been making others unhappy. Thats not me. Thats not cool.

I'm doing this for me. I'm focusing on me, inside and out. I'm going to drag out that confident woman, I'm not letting her hide anymore. I'm a mother, and each one of my stretch marks tells a different story of the journey I made and the sacrifices I've made for my children. And each future mark will tell a similar tale. I'm a mother, and a damn good one at that. But I'm still me. I just have to dig "me" back out.