Earning My Stripes

Brooklynne and I were having one of those days. It's February in Chicago, so that means we've essentially been inside for 5 months straight. We were bored of our toys and our games and our shows, so I thought we could waste away the afternoon in the bathtub. We were sitting in the tub and having a fun time. We played and talked and snuggled a bit, it was really a sweet time. Then Bird looked at me with a puzzled face and rubbed my stomach. With big questioning eyes she asked " Mommy, what happen to djur bawwdy?!" She was of course referring to my stretch marks.  I was mortified and flustered and just started rambling through an answer that didn't make any coherent sense. She lost interest and went back to playing with her bath toys, but I was numb. My body has always been a sensitive subject for me. I've been chubby, overweight, normal, and fit throughout my life, but mostly on the larger side of the scale. I've always loved eating and can't remember a time I didn't count down the minutes until dinner. I was my heaviest in high school. It had to do with terrible self esteem, and poor eating habits, but also, oddly, looks preservation. I stopped working out because I didn't like to sweat ( it made my hair frizz). I woke up at 5:00 to do a full face of makeup and straighten my crazy curly hair within an inch of its life EVERY SINGLE MORNING FOR 3 YEARS. I ate what my girlfriends ate, but more. I exerted no energy, and fell into a deep depression. I tried to keep myself mentally busy by chasing boys and lying for attention, but I was starting to unravel a bit. I was making bad decisions, I was terribly unhappy, and I really didn't know how I was going to turn it all around. I was embarrassed to look at myself in the mirror, but couldn't stop being so superficial. It was an odd Catch 22. Moving to Baltimore seemed like the worst thing in the world at the time, but I thank the Lord I was given that get out of jail free card. Going to an all girls school let me finally stop caring about what I looked like, and start working on it. I went to the gym religiously, wore my hair in messy curls, and started eating healthy. I will forever keep St. Tim's on a pedestal for all it gave to me, but also for who it let me become. I lost the rest of my baby fat and unwanted lbs the beginning of my freshman year at Baylor, and loved how I felt. Soon after, I started dating Cooper and the rest is history. But my body image really never changed. I always saw myself as the chubby awkward girl, and that has honestly been the stumbling block in my head for years. Its wrapped up in self loathing and feeling less than and a terribly skewed self worth. When I got pregnant, I was thrilled to not worry about my eating so much, a little too much in the beginning, but it worked itself out. I maintained a decent pregnancy weight and lost the weight quickly afterwards. The stretch marks were indeed there, but not too bad. Then, Chicago happened. Chicago is like a holding pattern for our family; a sort of layover type place. It's where Singletary kids go until they get their next assignment. This was my second stint in layover land, but this turned out to be VERY different. We were here this time, unbeknownst to us, to work on our marriage. The cracks had started to show, and the Lord used this time, this place, and this house to bring out all of the ugly and lay it out on the table. Things were so hard for Cooper and I. He flung himself whole heartedly into fixing the house and ended up biting off way more than he could chew.  In his defense, I now know he was just trying to make this into our dream house, but we lived in sheer chaos for about a year straight. I was home here with Brooklynne without a car, and Cooper had a 3 hour round trip commute to a steady, but low paying job. We were making enough to just barely eek by, and there was no wiggle room at all. Both sets of parents stepped in and helped tremendously, but the day in and day out was brutal. So the only real indulgence I had was what I ate. Or how much, I should say. I ate pretty much all day, because I could, and I absolutely fed my sadness with Oreo's and strawberry ice cream.  I felt so deprived of a life I wanted so desperately I let myself indulge in the one thing I had control over. The same high school pattern emerged. It went on this way for about a year, and I hated it. Looking back, I'm so sad at how I spent that time. Brooklynne was my constant companion and while she laughed and played and was none the wiser to my pain, I know I wasn't as alive as I could have been. I let the pain dwell and fester, and those same old demons took over -" don't let anyone see, don't let anyone know how messy your mind has become. Don't ask for help, don't let them know you can't hack it. You're weak and fat, and that's simply the way it is." That mantra played in my head all day everyday for months and months on end. I look back at our trip to Hawaii this past summer and can see the thinly veiled pain in my eyes and swollen face. Cooper ended up not coming for a few different reasons, and that was the beginning of the end for us and our cold war way of life. We got home and fought like crazy until we got through it all. We sought to find answers and get to the bottom of our nagging issues.This autumn was a time of healing for me, and of reconciliation for us. By Christmas, I was back to my old self, my happy self, mentally. I finally bit the bullet and went gluten free, and have started to put myself on the agenda again. While I won't look like my college self or don an adorable bikini anytime soon, I am working on me again. My body may not be what it was, but it can certainly be better than it is. I look at my stretch marks not with admiration- I'm not that evolved yet- but I do appreciate what they mean. I became a mom, a good one, and have these left to show alongside my beautiful baby girl. Not that I'd show anyone other than my husband and sisters, but you get what I mean. It means I came through the other side better and wiser. No less wear and tear, but in some ways I'm lighter and brighter than I was before Brooklynne and Chicago: Round 2. So I believe I've earned these stripes, and until I'm done having babies and can get them lasered off (which I'm TOTALLY doing,) I'll wear them with pride underneath my one piece. Lest you think I'm all svelte and sane, I'll have you know I nearly passed out not too long ago because I wasn't willing to take off my drenched t shirt in my Bikhram yoga class. The room is set to a balmy 105 degrees, so most people are as naked as is publicly allowed. Not me. I'm in full yoga pants, a sports bra and a t shirt. I didn't want to see my muffin top in in the mirror, so I let myself sweat profusely to the point of nausea. I know my self image will always be my stumbling block, but I also know the Lord is changing my heart and mind day by day.When I am in tune spiritually I can begin to fine tune my physical self. I can challenge myself when I feel secure. Understanding I'm made in His image helps me to accept grace, and to think more highly of myself. As a daughter of the King, He calls us to no less. I'm gaining in knowledge and losing the pounds and I'm learning to appreciate this skin I'm in.