My Journey With Body Positivity as a Single Parent
Our Superhero single parent Rebecca Davies is giving her honest account of how she feels about her body as a single parent and loving every part of herself.
When I first split from my partner the idea of dating somebody new was not at the top of my priority list, it was more about finding a new house and keeping a 4 year old and a newborn alive on my own. But as time ticked on, things have settled and I am now divorced, dating is certainly a topic at the forefront of my mind. And with dating usually comes sex. Now the panic truly sets in. When you’re married it’s almost an unwritten rule that no matter how many stretch marks you get or how much junk you have in your trunk, your spouse will love you, all of you. It’s in the vows somewhere I’m sure. Brilliant! You can relax and reach for that extra doughnut knowing that sexy time later is still on the cards, no need to feel self-conscious. After all, you did go through thirty hours of excruciating labour to bring his children into the world, he has to accept all your lumps and bumps, which I’m sure he does happily. But, what happens when things don’t work out? When the happily ever after is just happily for a few years.
When I met my then to-be-husband I was a slim, body confident girl of 22 wearing the tiniest of dresses and not giving two fucks. I have accepted that I not the same person anymore and that’s fine but couldn’t I just keep the body? I guess it doesn’t work that way and I have learned to accept that I do have a different body for two of the best reasons I could possibly think of. I am on a journey of body positivity as a single parent and I think it’s going to be a rollercoaster ride.
When I stand naked and look in the mirror (I do this more often than you’d expect) I find it hard to recognise myself.
Is that really me staring back wearing a slightly exhausted and bewildered expression?
Yes, it most certainly is. But where did the size 8 body go and fresh youthful skin? The woman looking at me is a chubby little thing with bags under her eyes, stretch marks climbing up her thighs and a tummy pouch that could be used for storing snacks. But the show must go on, so, with a sigh, I pull my leggings on and chuck on a baggy t shirt and crack on with my day. A day filled with dishes, laundry, school runs and the bowel movements of the tiny humans that I have created.
I must think about the way that I look at least ten times a day whilst I clean bums and wipe noses.
If I see someone who is thinner than I, I yearn for their body. I will walk past a high street shop full of gorgeous clothes and curse my wobbly tum and chunky thighs. It’s safe to say that I haven’t been very positive about my body even though it’s blessed me with two gorgeous children and keeps me alive everyday, pretty good going really. Then I have the sheer audacity to go around and talk trash
about it, what a bitch I am! It’s time for me to treat myself with some kindness and give thanks to a body that’s done me well for the past 32 years and hopefully many more to come. I will admit it’s not easy to be positive when my mind is full of stick thin Kardashian clones and the literally impossible figures that fill up my Instagram feed. They pout like blowfish and promote flat tummy tea or lollipops which will do naff all apart from maybe give you the shits if you’re lucky.
It makes me feel really crap about my apparent below average physique but I must remind myself that this not real.
It’s all a load of social media rubbish driven by money hungry corporations that design adverts to make us feel bad about ourselves so we buy the solution from them. So, when I do stand in the mirror naked and look at the woman staring back at me I don’t shy away from looking at the parts that have been deemed flawed. My stretch marks show how my skin grew to accommodate life growing inside me and my saggy belly protected and held that life safely.
My breasts, that point a tad south these days, fed my children providing them with nutrition and helping them to feel close to me.
The bags under my eyes tell me how my kids don’t enjoy sleeping but also, and more importantly, how I’m always there for them no matter how exhausted it makes me. So, I think all in all that makes me a pretty good mum and gives me a sense of gratitude to my body for allowing all of these wonderful things to happen. And, as for another man seeing me naked in all my doughnut loving glory, well, I will cross that bridge when I get there, for now it’s about me and my journey to body confidence. All I need to be concerned about right now is loving my boys and loving myself, every part of myself.
When I stand naked and look in the mirror (I do this more often than you’d expect) I find it hard to recognise myself.
Is that really me staring back wearing a slightly exhausted and bewildered expression?
Yes, it most certainly is. But where did the size 8 body go and fresh youthful skin? The woman looking at me is a chubby little thing with bags under her eyes, stretch marks climbing up her thighs and a tummy pouch that could be used for storing snacks. But the show must go on, so, with a sigh, I pull my leggings on and chuck on a baggy t shirt and crack on with my day. A day filled with dishes, laundry, school runs and the bowel movements of the tiny humans that I have created.
I must think about the way that I look at least ten times a day whilst I clean bums and wipe noses.
If I see someone who is thinner than I, I yearn for their body. I will walk past a high street shop full of gorgeous clothes and curse my wobbly tum and chunky thighs. It’s safe to say that I haven’t been very positive about my body even though it’s blessed me with two gorgeous children and keeps me alive everyday, pretty good going really. Then I have the sheer audacity to go around and talk trash
about it, what a bitch I am! It’s time for me to treat myself with some kindness and give thanks to a body that’s done me well for the past 32 years and hopefully many more to come. I will admit it’s not easy to be positive when my mind is full of stick thin Kardashian clones and the literally impossible figures that fill up my Instagram feed. They pout like blowfish and promote flat tummy tea or lollipops which will do naff all apart from maybe give you the shits if you’re lucky.
It makes me feel really crap about my apparent below average physique but I must remind myself that this not real.
It’s all a load of social media rubbish driven by money hungry corporations that design adverts to make us feel bad about ourselves so we buy the solution from them. So, when I do stand in the mirror naked and look at the woman staring back at me I don’t shy away from looking at the parts that have been deemed flawed. My stretch marks show how my skin grew to accommodate life growing inside me and my saggy belly protected and held that life safely.
My breasts, that point a tad south these days, fed my children providing them with nutrition and helping them to feel close to me.
The bags under my eyes tell me how my kids don’t enjoy sleeping but also, and more importantly, how I’m always there for them no matter how exhausted it makes me. So, I think all in all that makes me a pretty good mum and gives me a sense of gratitude to my body for allowing all of these wonderful things to happen. And, as for another man seeing me naked in all my doughnut loving glory, well, I will cross that bridge when I get there, for now it’s about me and my journey to body confidence. All I need to be concerned about right now is loving my boys and loving myself, every part of myself.