Why Are We So Hard on Ourselves?

I knew the day was coming. I knew, from the moment we started trying to have a baby, in fact, that someday, when I was far enough along in pregnancy, it would happen: I would weigh more than Chris. If I'm telling you the truth, I thought about this long before we even decided to start a family. He's not that much taller than me; the writing was on the wall.

You step on the scale every time you go to the doctor during pregnancy. I'd like to say it gets easier each week, as you hear your weight climb. And it does at first, when you're gaining one or two pounds here and there. But, as someone who swore off the scale years ago (I honestly couldn't have told you my starting weight if they hadn't recorded it), it's been shocking during these last few weeks to hear the numbers creep up and up. 

Last week, when the nurse told me what I weighed, I blurted out: well, that's a number I've never seen before! My candor revealing my shock. 

It's worth it, of course, to see these high numbers as our baby grows. And it doesn't matter (I try to remember) whether or not I weigh less than Chris. He certainly does not care. But, as someone who has sworn (and declared!) the number on the scale doesn't matter - that it doesn't impact our beauty, our worth, our value - I'm surprised by how shocked I have been at those bi-weekly weigh ins. 

Wondering if I was the only one who was bothered by this, I googled "pregnancy + I weigh more than my husband." I hadn't really looked at pregnancy forums until then and was shocked to see how many other women struggle with it. As I read through their posts, I felt both reassured (this is very normal) and happy to see how women encouraged one another (he still thinks you're beautiful). 

However, as I got deeper into the forums, I started noticing how critical they were of themselves - of their "back rolls" and "huge thighs" and how they "felt fat" and wanted to cry every time they looked at their lithe husbands. 

I couldn't believe how women were willing to reassure one another, but so highly critical of themselves. Why do we do this? Why do we treat other women like people we love, but treat ourselves like mannequins who deserved to be measured and pinched and prodded? 

via

I don't know what it is for you - whether it's a number on the scale or on your pants. Maybe you hate your big forehead or your wide feet. Maybe you wish you were shorter. Maybe you wonder if your voice is annoying. Pregnant or not, we all have something that makes us feel insecure, a little afraid to look directly in the mirror or hold our heads high. 

Reading those forums reminded me of a few truths: we, as women, need to work daily to fight the messages the world sends us about gender norms, how we should look and where our worth comes from.

Most importantly, we need to treat ourselves as we'd treat our sister or best friend: speaking truths of what beauty really means, practicing gentility and remembering we are more than the sum of our body parts.

As I read through the forums, I decided, then and there, that I was going to hold my head high for the rest of pregnancy when the nurse tells me my weight. I won't let Satan creep into this season of joy by creating shame for me. I won't let any number define me. Not today or tomorrow. Not during pregnancy or after. I didn't do it before and I won't do it now. 

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Thoughts on Body Image & Pregnancy

I've gained five pounds in the last month. This isn't something we'd normally share online, is it? It's funny, the way being pregnant has changed the way I look at my body. I feel so proud of my growing stomach, my expanding hips. I'm in awe of how this child is developing on its own, my body inherently knowing what to do. 

I've been a believer in intuitive eating and exercise for a while now, but pregnancy has affirmed my outlook on the topic. As I watch my body grow this tiny human, without my mind doing much to help at all, I'm amazed at how it knows what to do.  Who am I to question my body when it tells me it needs a rest day? It's smart enough to grow a human, after all. Who am I to question my body begging for more sleep, when it's working overtime to create this being? 

The entire experience has reminded me that our bodies are smart. So often we allow routine, rigidity and anxiety to dictate our eating, exercise and sleep habits. But our bodies always give us clues to indicate what they need. They're amazing! 

I don't fit into any of my clothes and there are surely some very unattractive parts of being pregnant (I'll spare you the details for now). But even as my body changes, becoming less and less like the one I've always known, I'm finding myself to be more confident. I feel feminine and just so, so very grateful for the chance to carry this baby. 

It makes me wonder why it took pregnancy to help me make this way. Why did I spend years challenging, mistrusting and disliking my body, when it is so wise and powerful? 

image via Our Sacred Women

The female body is magical, beautiful and sacred. Pregnancy is reminding me not to challenge this truth, but instead to embrace it. 

I've heard the pendulum will shift again - that at the end of pregnancy you begin to feel a little less attractive. But, for now, I'm soaking up this boost in confidence, counting every pound as a win for Baby Sax and hoping I hold onto this truth beyond May. 

Things Worth Your Time

This article from NYT about teaching kindness in schools. All the yes yes yeses from my end!

This beautiful guide to seasonal eating. Baby Saxon has me craving tangerines and clementines like crazy, just in time for January produce. Is this baby already outsmarting me!? Probably :) The artist has one for every month and I was salivating as I looked ahead to spring. 

This list of 2018 resolutions. My favorites: "There will always be a new superfood. Just eat food that makes you feel super." and "Vulnerability is strength." 

This incredible story of love after loss from Cup of Jo. I cried as I read it in a coffee shop. It weaves hope into a tragic story. I also really appreciated her sister's guide to writing a condolence note. And it made me want to read The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying. 

This delicious winter salad recipe from Oh She Glows. My sister made it last Wednesday and, after tasting it, I turned around and made it again Thursday!

On Learning to Trust Your Body

I spent the majority of my 20s learning to eat and exercise intuitively, largely with the help of a therapist and the book Intuitive Eating. Before reading it, I'd developed rigid food and exercise habits. I followed a routine and rarely asked myself what I'd enjoy eating or doing for exercise each day.

Throughout my 20s, I learned to break free from this lifestyle. I used to run 3 to 5 miles every day, not because it was necessarily what I wanted to do, but because it was what I was "supposed to do." I'd been running that mileage since middle school. I was a runner. How could it not be what I did? It was part of who I was. 

Years later, I see clearly that it was not part of who I was, but instead merely something I did. We are not our outputs.

I still exercise most days, but now I ask myself what I'd enjoy doing. It might be yoga, weight training, spinning, swimming, rock climbing or anything in between. Some days it's running, yes. But through the practice of asking myself what really sounds good on any given day, I've learned that running doesn't always sound as amazing as I once thought it did. 

When I began shifting my exercise model, I had a ton of anxiety. I called my friend, Katie, who used to run with me almost daily (we did middle school and high school cross country together, and ran the Chicago marathon together in college. We'd logged a lot of miles as a duo.). She was ahead of me - she'd switched from running to mostly yoga after college. I told her how worried I was about changing my ways. Was I going to gain weight? Would I lose all my running skills? I liked being someone who could run further and faster than most other people. Would I ever be able to get that back if I missed it? 

She encouraged me to try making the switch, reminding me that I wasn't quitting exercising altogether, but instead trying new things. She also reminded me that my worth as a person was not in being a long distance runner. It wasn't what made me Whitney. It was just something I did. 

Through the process of intuitive exercising, I learned to trust myself more. I learned that my body would tell me if it needed a rest day, or a long bike ride in the sun, as opposed to a heavy lifting day in the gym. I learned that some mornings, an extra hour of sleep is more important than a workout. Or that sharing a cup of coffee with Chris would feed my soul more than a solo run would.

I also learned that my hunger cues would align with my exercise. A hot vinyasa class will leave my starving all day, while an incline walk might not produce quite as much hunger. When I ate within a rigid routine, there was no room to listen to my hunger cues. Now though? If I just ate lunch but am coming up hungry, I know to trust that my body needs a little more food. 

The body is really brilliant. It tells us what it needs, but we often override it with the mind - allowing anxiety, society and routine tell us what we need to do. My journey through intuitive eating taught me that I can trust my body. It was designed to survive and thrive long before the world started telling women how we should eat, look or exercise.

In learning to trust what it tells me, I've found great freedom. I've learned that there is room in my life for both structure and playfulness. Life is always a balance.

I've learned to love exercise again, not because it's what I should do, but because it's a joy and privilege to move my body each day. I've learned that I love carbs and cheese and ice cream, but that my body won't tell me to overdo it. I've learned to love rest days just as much as I love a hard spin class.

Most importantly, I've learned that listening to the anxious voice in my mind, asking me if my day is complete without exercise, won't get me anywhere compared to the way listening to my capable, wise body will.