When society told me that a thin waist, badonkadonk, and long thick, luscious locks were the definition of perfection, I couldn’t help but look at myself in the mirror and cry. This isn’t a pity post. This is a real moment in my life. I don’t have an hourglass figure. I have a badinkadink, and my hair is thinning so much that postpartum hair loss has NOTHING on my patches.
The point is, when it came to self-love, self-confidence, and self-acceptance, there was nothing. No self-love, no confidence, and absolutely no acceptance. Although, I never really understood why. I’ve sat down with my therapist a number of times, and we decided to work through the knots and kinks to finally give the weight of this heavy anchor some slack.
For whatever reason, I base a lot of my self-confidence on my appearance, my physical appearance. The irony behind that is I am not a “well put together” kind of person in terms of fashion and beauty. Now that I am thinking about it, I am pretty sure I have the same blue eyeshadow from 2005 in my bathroom. So, I rely heavily on women like Meredith to help me out here. I was once told that I would never be taken seriously in my field of study (Public Health) because of my size. I mentioned my pregnancy story once before, but I don’t think I ever expressed what pregnancy did to my self-love and confidence.
My self-confidence and self-love are two very different things. Yes, they go hand-in-hand, but one does not guarantee the other. If my self-confidence is based on appearance. then I would say I base my self-love on how I navigate situations in life. To explain that, it is important to mention the NICU.
I think in every program or even when discussing grief, there is always the talk about acceptance. We use the word when discussing payment, or when placing value on an item, a behavior, a want, a desire. What is acceptable? Are we acceptable? As humans? As women? As mothers? If we accept others, then why can’t we accept ourselves?
I battled with that question often. I will ALWAYS have an uphill battle to lose weight. I will ALWAYS be a mom to a former micro-preemie. I will never like the way I look, and I will never share a normal pregnancy journey. “Why can’t I just accept that this is who I am?”




Simple answer? Perspective and growth. With life and experiences come opportunities to see things through a new lens, and that’s your chance to investigate further, look beyond the surface of the situation. This all sounds philosophical, and maybe it is, but once I shifted my perspective, I found myself growing a little at a time.
I shifted my focus from the awful stretch marks, patches of hair, and even my failure to carry my son to full term to something positive. The stretch marks represent how my body grew in order to make room for this tiny human being who practically controls my life. My dry skin and hair loss remind me that whatever nutrients and hormones I was producing very little of already, were needed by my child. He needed them more than I did. A mother’s love, right?
It all comes down to finally self-acceptance. Once I had this new method of thinking, this new perspective, I was able to reflect on events that happened in my life. I realized my worth goes beyond my physical appearance. I’ve learned self-love is more than just a feeling, it’s an understanding. Learning that strength, beauty, and understanding are all pieces of acceptance, and once you have those, you learn to accept who you are.
Our stories may not be the same. They may not even be similar, but I can tell you that with a little look inward, you’ll be able to accept the amazing woman you are. At least I did, but then again there is always room for growth.