I debated taking family photos this past month. My body hadn’t been quite the same since I had my daughter. I had gained a lot of weight and have struggled with losing it. I am now twice the size I was when I got pregnant. I’ve wrestled with a deep depression because of it.
I’ve often wondered how my husband could look at me and find my fat beautiful. And I’m not talking about the natural, thick and curvy women whose fat flows so well and seamlessly. I’m talking about the fat that resides in my Pooh Bear belly and my massive thighs. The type of fat that makes you look disproportional.
This is the type of fat that makes it hard to shop for clothes. Finding jeans is a disaster. You need them larger for the thighs and belly, but because of that, the rest of the pant just hangs off your legs in a baggy fashion. In fact, the only thing I can find confidence in is a dress or some loose sweatpants.
But my husband doesn’t see it like that. You see, he has always thought of me as beautiful and reassured me of this. Ever since I gave birth, he has found me even more beautiful than before. I still struggle to believe it, truth be told. I know his words are genuine, but I can’t find it true for myself. I have a hard time feeling beautiful and not fat.
When getting ready for family photos this past month, I was standing in front of my mirror trying outfits on, each one a disaster. My daughter was playing with her baby dolls and asked me what I was doing. I just threw a shirt down and told her I was trying on clothes. I felt my disheartened tone travel through my voice, and I’m sure she picked up on it.
At that moment, I knew I needed to change my perspective. I don’t want my daughter struggling with body image issues and not seeing herself as beautiful as I do. I want her to see her beauty and everything she is worth. She is a precious gem. I didn’t have an outfit that fit, but I finalized our family photos shortly after that moment. I knew that having a lasting memory was more important than pouting about my weight.
In years to come, my daughter isn’t going to care about my weight in those photos. All she is going to see is Momma and Daddy with Elena. In fact, when I look at the bigger picture, I am not going to be worried about my body or how I look when I view these pictures down the road. I will be happy they were taken and that I have those precious moments frozen in time. That’s what matters.
Fun fact, I still struggled with depression about my body the day we got our family photos taken. Behind my smile are anxiety and a saddened heart that was sucking in her gut with all her might. I kept trying to hide my belly during the shoot, but it didn’t work. I actually left there more happy about my daughter’s solo pictures than our family photos. Then I saw the pictures. My life, our life, so beautifully captured. Nothing else mattered. All I could see was a man and a little girl so in love with me and I with them. That’s the real beauty. So, momma, I feel you. I am you. I am telling you to take the pictures anyway. True beauty shines in love.
Originally published on the author’s blog
by Michelle Koch 
by Jennifer Bailey 
by Amy Weatherly 
