Last week I posted pictures of of my stomach. I tried to make light of it, but the truth was, I was terrified of letting people see what it REALLY looks like.
I can’t tell you how many times that I’ve cried over the way my stomach looks. When I see it in the mirror, I feel like some kind of a beast. When I’m watching a movie with my husband and an image of a beautiful woman with a stomach that is flat and not full of stretch marks and a deformed belly button appears on the screen, I want to throw up from the shame that I feel for the way that I look.
No matter how many times my husband tells me that I’m beautiful, I can’t believe it because of my stomach..
His hands gently stroked my belly, as he looked at it. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. “Stop calling yourself ugly. I love your body. Those stretch marks are beautiful to me, because they remind me that you carried my children. My children grew in there and you’re beautiful.” The tears came faster and harder. Here is this man, this wonderful, loving man, rubbing the body I hate. Looking at it, loving it. Why can’t I just accept it for what it is?
To expose my belly in that way was terrifying. I didn’t know how people would react. Would people be as repulsed as I was? All of the feedback was positive, except for one comment and of course, that was the one that stuck with me the most.
“your husband just wanted to get laid, why else would he say you are beautiful? Your stretch marks are hideous”.
And that comment was exactly the reason why I had felt so ashamed. My body isn’t what “Society” considers a beautiful body. It’s hideous and repulsive. Sadly, I’ve bought into that lie.
I’ve always felt that I am alone, because my sister has had children and her belly doesn’t look like mine. My cousins have had babies and they didn’t get stretch marks.
That feeling of being the only woman to look this way has made me feel isolated. It has made me feel like I should be ashamed.
That is why I can not stop crying over this site, The Shape of a Mother. (Amalah send me the link this morning.) I’m sobbing over here. To know that I’m not a freak, that other women have experienced such changes in their body, to know that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, even though society (“the media”) tries to tell us differently is a powerful, powerful thing.
*Edited to add* (Shape of a Mother put up a post I wrote on November 2002. I thought I’d repost it here too.

Naked
i stand in front of the mirror, naked.
i cringe at what i see.
my body is worn and torn,
the marks from carrying a child ever present.
my breasts, once perfectly shaped and beautiful
are now large and saggy, repulsive to look at.
my stomach, once flat and smooth,
is now covered with stretch marks, fat, no muscle tone.
i am ashamed.
i will never be beautiful again.
but today i tell myself, although it is hard to look at and it is indeed ugly, it is a reminder that two amazing human beings were formed inside of me and those marks and stretched out skin are proof that life grew inside of me. it is a reminder i made love to a man i adore, life was created and my body was home to those beautiful babies for 9 months. my stomach was stretched as they grew, my breast were enlarged with the milk that would sustain them for the first months of their lives. it takes my breath away when i think back to having them inside of me, to the miracle of their births, seeing them for the first time and it makes it easier to accept the mess my body has become. looking at them, kissing them, i say these marks on my body were a small price to pay for the amazing gift that grew inside of me for 9 months and have filled my life with love and purpose everyday since they were born.
i may be ugly, my body repulsive to look at
but i am a mother
and i am blessed.
Posted by Y at November 3, 2002 07:37 AM

Last Wednesday, I started The Atkins Diet. The plan was to do it for 2 weeks to jumpstart my weight loss and then to gradually add the good carbs back in and go back on weight watchers.
Well, as of this morning, I have lost 8 pounds. In a week.

I’m back to my lowest weight since starting this weight loss journey and honestly, I couldn’t be happier about it. But! (There’s always a “But!”)
I have decided to stop at one week, instead of two. How very flaky of me.
Me? Flakey? How totally not at all shocking!
For one, I’m SICK SICK SICK of eggs. Oh my God. Just saying it makes me want to vomit. Also? I kinda miss pooping. No, no, I TOTALLY miss pooping. Last night, I felt “the urge” and I jumped up, ran to the livingroom and said “Tony! I think I feel a poo coming on! I think I may actually take a dump!”
It was like Christmas in July! “A POO! I GOT A POO!”
Also? I don’t want to deprive my body for too long of the “good” carbs, because I know what happens once I’ll start eating them again. (And I will start eating them again because hello? I’m half mexican and have you ever heard of a little thing called TORTILLAS? Yeah.)
Ah, who am I kidding, I’m quitting because I WANT A BOWL OF CEREAL ALSO? QUITE POSSIBLY A PLUM.
Honestly, I knew going into it that I probably wouldn’t last, but I was so desperate to lose those 8 pounds and now that they are gone, I am SO done with it.
I’m not going to start scarfing down The Carbs now that I’m done with Atkins. I’m still going to stay away from the bad carbs and just add things like fruit and cottage cheese and unsweetened iced green teas from The Bucks. (Have I told you that I’ve been frappicino and also coffee free for over a month? But that now I am addicted to iced green teas? Which, is so much better because a)cheaper b)not sugared up c)better for you. Hurray for breaking addictions only to replace them with new and healthier addictions!)
In other, more exciting news, my daughter has FINALLY started calling me “Mommy.” She’s always called me “Mom.” No matter how many times I’ve begged and pleaded with her to say Mommy. But this week, when I went to pick her up from her crib in the morning, she stretched her hands out and said “Ohhh, Mommy.
And then my heart exploded and I cried.

I really DO love you guys. Honestly, I do. You have no idea how much your encouragement and support means to me. I mean, HELLO? I posted pictures of my stomach yesterday and you all said nice things–REALLY nice things.
I have to admit, I was shocked (SHOCKED!) at the comments about my stomach. People used words like “Toned” and “ABS” and “muscles” to describe my stomach. What?
WHAT?!
I’ll admit, it sure felt good to hear that. I mean, who doesn’t want to hear nice things about their body? But! The longer the day went on, the more it bothered me because, well, I can not let people think that I have muscular abs when I do not. Because “Oh my God! What if someone asks to see my toned abs at BlogHer?
Everyone knows I hate my body, err, um, I used to hate my body but am working on loving it. The thing I hate the most about my body is my stomach.
It’s stretched out. It’s fat. It’s flabby. It’s lumpy. There are fat rolls (ok, one giant roll that hangs) It’s covered in stretch marks. My belly button is stretched out and deformed (but, I have to say, it makes a really good “puppet”, which is kind of awesome. I like to open and close it whilst talking in a funny voice and say things like “Can you please check me for lint?”)
I often think, “God, my life would be so much better if it weren’t for my disgusting belly.”
Before I get too sad and depressed about my belly, I should mention that my belly does have a few redeeming qualities and we do have our moments of happiness together. Like, when we’re shopping together, or when we’re making sweet belly music on the couch late at night.
I can understand the compliments and comments about my “Toned” “abs” because they did look quite nice in those pictures, but there are reasons for that.
a)I’m standing far away from the mirror.
b) I was sucking my stomach in as hard as I could. (And please, do not judge me for that, who DOESN’T hold their stomach in when people are looking at it?)
c) Bad lighting.
(Look at me! I’m trying to talk you out of thinking that I have “toned” “abs.” What the hell is wrong with me?)
I know, and I try and my GOD, I appreciate the compliments. But there are people who are irritated with me because “how dare I call myself fat when I have such toned, muscular abs.” Because, you know, I’m not really fat at all and just want people to tell me how great I look!
Um, yeah. Except, not really.


My belly button is all “You know you want to pet me and sing songs to me and, perhaps, frolic with me in the hills of fatty goodness that is Y’s belly. Admit it, you do.”
Ha! Ha! Come on. It’s funny, people. Ok, maybe you have to hear it in my belly button voice. If you’re nice and don’t scold me about being “nicer to my toned abs.” then maybe I will make a .wav file for you.
Now that we’ve cleared THAT up, let’s move on, shall we?
I’m convinced that the dressing room lighting/mirrors are designed to make you feel bad about yourself. That is why I NEVER try clothes on at the store. I will buy a butt load of clothes, come home, try them on and return the ones that don’t fit. Today, I thought I’d go ahead and try the clothes on there in the fitting room so I didn’t have to listen to PigHunter go on and on about how annoying it is that I don’t try clothes on and blahblahblah “don’t lose the reciept, woman!”
I never feel like taking a giant ax and chopping limbs off of my body when I try clothes on at home. I may say things like “Nah, this doesn’t fit.” Or “Damn, my ass is too lumpy in this skirt” But not ONCE have I cried and said things like “Oh my GOD! I HATE MYSELF AND HOW DO PEOPLE NOT PUKE WHEN THEY LOOK IN MY GENERAL DIRECTION?”
(That is what I actually said to myself whilst CRYING at a Kohl’s dressing room.)
(What am I shopping for? Oh, a little thing called AN OUTFIT FOR A WEDDING THAT IS TOMORROW that I have been avoiding for months because I was in denial that I would be a size 10 by now and ha! Ha! Ha! NOT.)
It’s not just my weight that looks bad in the dressing room mirrors either. It’s my skin, my hair, my face, my toes, my teeth, my ears, my anus.
Everything.
I swear, I feel like everyone in my life would be better off without me in their lives every time I come out of The Fitting Room.
The HELL is up with that?

It wasn’t easy for me to post the pictures of my body yesterday. I actually cried when I saw them, because, well, I’m truly ashamed of my body.
But this IS my body. I’m trying desperately to learn how to love and accept it. I’m trying to remain honest and open about it here on my blog, for personal reasons and also for the people who have written to me, telling me that my honesty has encouraged them to lose weight.
Yesterday, I thought it was time to get real and come clean with my weight gain. Not that I’ve been dishonest about it, because I haven’t, but I thought since I posted weight loss pictures all of the damn time, it was time to post a “what an 8 pound gain looks like” photo.
I was shocked (SHOCKED!) at the comments about my stomach. People using words like “Toned” and “ABS” and “muscles”. What? WHAT?
I’ll admit, it sounded good to hear. I mean, who doesn’t want to hear nice things about their body? But! the longer the day went on, the more it bothered me because, well, I can not let people think that I have muscular abs when I do not. Because “OMG! What if someone asks to see my toned abs at BlogHer?!”
Here’s the thing. Everyone knows I hate my body, err, um, I used to hate my body but am working on loving it. The thing I hate the most is my stomach.
It’s stretched out. It’s fat. It’s flabby. It’s lumpy. It has rolls. It’s covered in stretch marks. My belly button is stretched out and deformed (but, I have to say, it makes a really good “puppet.” I like to open and close it whilst talking in a funny voice and say things like “Can you please check me for lint?”)
My stomach is the reason I refuse to go to the beach. My stomach is the reason I will not take a shower with my husband. My stomach is the reason I cry when I look in the mirror.
I hate it more than anything else on my body. It’s repulsive and I often think “If only my belly were normal, my life would be so much better.”
Don’t get too sad for me and my belly. It’s not “all hate all of the time.” We have our moments of happiness. Like, when we’re shopping together, or when we’re making sweet bellay music on the couch late at night.
I realize it’s more toned than it’s been, but, people, I do not have a muscular, toned stomach and I can not let you go on thinking that I do.
There are reasons that my stomach looked tone in those pictures.
a)I’m standing far away from the mirror.
b) I was sucking my stomach in as hard as I could. (And please, do not judge me for that, who DOESN’T hold their stomach in when people are looking at it?)
c) Bad lighting.
I can hear people now. “Just take a compliment, woman.”
I know, and I try and my GOD, I appreciate the compliments. But there are people who are irritated with me because “how dare I call myself fat when I have such toned, muscular abs.” Because, you know, I’m not really fat at all and just want people to tell me how great I look!
Um, yeah. Except, not really.


The Truth.
My belly button is all “You know you want to pet me and sing songs to me and, perhaps, frolic with me in the hills of fatty goodness that is Y’s belly. Admit it, you do.”
Ha! Ha! Come on. It’s funny, people. Ok, maybe you have to hear it in my belly button voice. If you’re nice and don’t scold me about being “nicer to my toned abs.” then maybe I will make a .wav file for you.
Because I love you that much (And NOT because I freaking LOVE to make .wav files.)
(P.S. I really DO love you guys. Honestly. You have no idea how much your encouragement and support means to me. I mean, HELLO? You told me that I have toned abs. How could I NOT love you?)