Baring It All (A Tribute to my "Wobbly Bits")

I'll spare you the photo (I'm too comfortable to run and get my camera), but ever since I've had babies, I've become a little more "well-rounded." I'm not talking only about my blossoming skill sets, which now include removing nail polish from any surface (thanks to an independent three-year-old who loves fancy toes) or using hand cream to remove said child's arm from a metal steering wheel in a mall play area (in the presence of some very concerned security guards). No, I'm talking about my belly.

What was once flat now has some personality.

And I'm perfectly fine with that. In the process of giving birth, I gained a whole new level of respect for my body. I suddenly had a sense of a much larger picture--an appreciation for what being a woman entails. My body is a baby-making marvel, and I can produce milk like no one's business.

In fact, I made gains where I once felt flawed. During a rather unpleasant break-up in my twenties, a boyfriend uttered the last words he would ever say to me: "I'm glad that you decided to end things because you were too flat for me." Little did he know that in the process of becoming a mother, I would have to squeeze into a double-D cup. (Of course, the milk that would shoot a metre or so would certainly have removed some of the sex appeal of my newfound and hard-won cleavage.)

Before I provide too much information about my triumphant body, I will say that I was profoundly disturbed today upon reading about the "Thinspiration" movement. A recent CBC article talks about anorexics and bulimics finding support through online communities (See Pro-anorexia Communities). This "support" doesn't come in the form of encouragement as they strive to maintain a healthy weight or deal with the emotional issues underlying their condition. Rather, weight-loss "achievements" are posted and applauded by others, and "inspiring" photos are posted to keep viewers "on track."

I've posted some of the more troubling "inspirational" photos posted on the Proanalifestyleforever page (See proanalifestyleforever.wordpress.com).

One girl writing on the comments page of this site muses, "I like most of the pictures. There isn’t a single one of these women (or any woman or girl) who isn’t beautiful. I’d like to be thin. Right now, I’m in the normal range for my weight and BMI...All the girls here look healthy and thin...Thinspiration is definitely a great source of inspiration for both women and men to stay motivated and keep to their goals."


I can see setting fitness goals, certainly. And yes, women and men should be motivated and goal-oriented. But to spend your precious moments of your life fixated on cutting down that last calorie is to squander your life, your talents, the work you were put on this earth to do. It's heartbreaking.

"Starting today, only water," one girl writes.

Another writes, "I need to loose [sic] weight. Badly. I used to carve words into my wrists: disgusting, fat, ugly etc. But its not motivating me any more. I haven`t eating in days, but i don`t seem to loose [sic] any weight….. Help? remember, emptiness is pure, starvation is the cure!"

Perhaps the most troubling is the comment from "Desiree," who writes, "I am this thin, but i want to be thinner. I am currently 7 stone 4. I want to get down to 5 stone 3. It sounds stupid and dangerous but i think i will be happy when i am at that weight. Look at these girls, their bones dont show enough."

I am terrified about the criticism my daughters may one day face, that my beautiful three-year-old may stop boasting about how much she has grown--how "big" she is getting. I am worried that my six-year-old, who has a lean, muscular build, will poke at the flesh of her calves and fail to ask me, "What the heck are these flaps for?" (Incidentally, she did ask, at which point I talked about the function of fat. Chuckling, she hugged herself and said, "I love my body!")

I despise what our media culture is doing to girls. I hate the message that becoming an empty, vacuous vessel is what being a female is all about. I hate how we are being shortchanged, and sidetracked, and set on a futile journey.

And that's why, when my daughters poke at my belly and chuckle, I join in and poke fun at my  "wobbly bits." I declare that I love my body, am proud of my beautiful, strong, healthy self, a self that changed when I gave birth. And as I cuddle my girls on the couch, I let them know that with these changes came profound gifts--the best of which are now nestled against me.