“No, Honey. Mommy wants to be strong!”
Let’s be defined by the love we pour out, not the way our pants hug our thighs.
Our time is too valuable to pick apart the width of our bodies instead of embracing the pieces that make up the width of our days.
“Yes, honey. I do have a squishy belly.”
To my three blessings: You are special. You are loved. You are enough, just as you are.
I’m teaching my children that the evidence of my disease will not prevent me from living life, enjoying the gifts of heat and water and sunshine that summer gives us.
Recovery is a journey, not a destination. It’s a long road, and sometimes there are detours. Sometimes there are speed bumps. Sometimes there are accidents.
All the while, I know that the real work doesn't need to happen to my stomach, it needs to happen in my head.
“I hope by the time I’m your age I have found my confidence.”
“Mom, I’m glad you’re not wearing that make up anymore. That means you are feeling better about yourself.”