I’m not sorry mamma because it’s long overdue! I may have mentioned before I have a slight tendancy to hoarding. I just get attached to things, they bring me memories. You know what I mean right?
Anyway, as you know I have been having cognitive behaviour therapy. This was something we discussed in my last session. You see, I have all these clothes from before I was pregnant that don’t fit me anymore. I fully expected to be back in my pre pregnancy clothes within a few months, just like I was after my first son. In fact after him I went down an extra dress size. But as every baby is different, so is every pregnancy and so is every post pregnant body. I had gained more weight in this pregnancy due to various issues. Another factor was that my second son was such an easy baby in comparison with my first. My eldest had colic, reflux and generally refused to sleep unless in my arms or if I was out walking so I rarely had time to rest, eat properly and walked A LOT.
So these clothes are just the hanging in my wardrobe taunting me. Making me feel bad that I haven’t got back into shape and that my body is not as perfect as I want it to be. Every now and then I will get something out and try it on. Nope still doesn’t fit. And then I feel depressed for a few days. There are 1 pair of jeans in particular that I like to torture myself with. It is a stick I keep beating myself with. Instead of embracing my new shape I was just frustrated and unhappy. Yes it is less than perfect but I have grown 2 babies in it, the last one being a chunky boy, and to deliver those 2 babies I had to have 2 C sections. My body has worked hard to bring 2 beautiful children into the world. So I have decided I need to accept it and care for it. Because continuing to beat myself with that stick is counter productive. Feeling depressed I comfort eat and then I just feel worse. It is time to take some control back. Starting with throwing that stick in the bin! So…I’m cleaning out my closet.
What a cathartic experience! Once I got started and I got over the remorse that I was throwing these things away. Things I was attached to because they reminded me of a time when I was happy with my body. Things that had particular good memories attached to them. I was on a roll. It was all going to the charity bin. Anything that didn’t fit… OUT. If it made me sad and not happy…OUT. My therapist suggested I took pictures of things I was particularly attached to. Which I did.
Do you know what? I feel so much better. What a freeing experience. I can now concentrate on learning to love my body again with all its imperfections and generally being kinder to myself. Best thing of all?….guess I need to buy some new clothes now.