Get into the Spirit of Self Confidence
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| Forty Weeks |
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| Four Weeks |
I’m pleased to be taking recess from therapy for a few weeks. My last visit sounded more like a gossip session because not much was troubling me.
My reactions are becoming much more appropriate to specific situations these days. It is normal to freak
out about taking Lavinia to the emergency room, not about going for a drive. Progress.
I went from having a
couple good days now and then, to a couple bad days now and then.
Since my brain is behaving, I am devoting my energy to physical health. After all, the two are not separate.
I’m at an age where I place no faith in diets. Tell me I can’t have something
and I want it all the more. Over the
years I have learned that as long as I move my body, I can pretty much eat what
I want. When I go overboard I repent- yesterday's nachos are today's steamed veggies.
I enjoy a mainly healthy lifestyle. Cooking relaxes me and exercise is my stress reliever (when I have time and motivation for it). Don’t get me wrong, I indulge. I looooove food. Any meal can be made better with melted cheese on top. Carbs are not the devil. And don’t forget the wine. "Everything in moderation, including
moderation itself," (Oscar Wilde).
Because I battled with a thyroid disease since age 14 I
understand the emotional ups and downs that accompany numbers on a scale. As a result I don’t do scales either. No diets and no scales. I try to tune in to what my body craves, put on my sneakers and run from temptation...most of the time.
When I got pregnant just shy of my 32nd birthday
I wigged. At 30 I was finally comfortable in my own skin and now this innocent little intruder was going to wreck it. A big, fat, test of my body-image belief system.
After weeks of struggling internally I was forced to let the pregnancy do it's natural thing while I adjusted my ideas of what health and beauty looked like. Society expects pregnant women to be these buff little Momma's with toned arms. Two long legs with a beach-ball stuffed beneath a fashionable figure-hugging maternity top. Well guess what? That's not how it works.
Every pregnancy is as unique as every human body. Rather than try to look like that ideal svelte-figure smuggling a soccer-ball, I decided to focus on the health of the little nugget inside me. I exercised, not to prevent weight gain, but to get oxygen flowing through my blood and into my fetus. I gulped down vitamins, drank spirulina smoothies and nettle tea (and of course, gave into my cake cravings).
I lovingly absolved myself from pressure to bounce back after Lavinia was born. It takes nine months to put the baby-weight
on, it’s only practical that it should take another nine to remove it.
Fast forward: Now that I finally had the time to think about myself again, I felt weak, squishy and fatigued. Rather than a focus on 'losing those last few pounds' my goals became- better sleep, better moods, more energy.
I joined a gym with child-minding and a month ago started
training with a female bodybuilder. It’s
really hard work trying to catch up to where I was before I got pregnant. Every training day I wake up and want to cancel...but I haven’t missed one session. My strength and confidence are returning with every bench press.
Forget ideals, forget unrealistic expectations or comparisons. Worship at the alter of good health and well-being!
I will be sharing before and after photos at the end of October. Check out my results here!
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| One week before Lavinia was born |
Labels: anxiety, Fitness, healing, health, Post Natal Depression, Pregnancy
posted by Unknown @ 2:58 PM
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