I know this is a touchy subject to most people but I don't care. According to my stats page, nobody reads this blog anyway, so I'll say whatever I feel like. <3 Sorry if this is rambly, I'm just going to write what I feel in the moment so it might be a little fragmented. But whatever.
Anyway, I've struggled with positive body image ever since I've been married and it became more intense when I had my two babies. When I first got married, I didn't have my mom there to tell me what to eat to stay skinny and I ate horribly, making me jump up from a 2 to an 8 in just six months. So it was all my fault, in case somebody out there was concerned that Josh was making me feel like shit. No. More on that in a minute.
It only became worse when I had Lincoln, because I was a solid size 10, but I felt like my weight was well distributed and I loved the way my butt looked!
Not long after that, I became pregnant with Noah and I kept my weight down through working out regularly and trying to eat healthy. But then I had a few complications, making me bedridden for the last three months of my pregnancy. I moved back in with my parents so my mom could help me with Lincoln and Josh stayed living at his mom's house so he wouldn't be so far from work.
So I was left to my own devices in terms of food purchasing, since I was 6 months pregnant, I didn't want to be too concerned about my eating habits, but that came back to bite me in the ass.
When I had Noah, I was 195 lbs. Before I could ask the nurse at my last doctors appointment to not tell me, she blurted it out and I was horrified. In high school I only weighed 125 lbs so adding 70 onto that was the worst.
It's been almost two years since Noah entered this world, and even though he's been way harder than Lincoln and it's been really difficult to parent him, I've wanted to lose my extra poundage that hasn't really left me since then. I fluctuate between 170 and 175 lbs, and I became so obsessed with my scale after giving birth, Josh threw out my scale. Best decision for me ever.
As some people might know, I've had a bit of an identity crisis since having Lincoln. I remember the moment distinctly in my head, I can see it even now. He was two weeks old and Josh was on his way home from work and it hit me; I had no idea who Mackenzie Anne Smith Packer was. I didn't know what I wanted most out of life and what my goals were and how I wanted to raise this little being I had been taking care of.
It was terrifying for me to feel that way, to be honest. I'd always felt so confident and fine with who I was, I felt myself sinking into a deep despair. I had a lot of discussions right away with Josh and he did his very best to try and help me make sense of things.
Anyway, I've been working on working through this conundrum for over three years and I think I've finally turned a new leaf.
Josh and I were getting ready for bed last night when I sat under the covers and looked over at him while he brushed his teeth. I explained to him that I had a revelation.
All my life, I thought that skinny means beauty. Skinny means people will take you seriously and you'll be more well liked and you'll get more out of life. And maybe all those things are true for some people, but it hit me yesterday when we put the boys down.
I discussed my idea with my sister. She loves getting healthy and working out with her husband in the mornings and finding new yummy meals that don't have any added sugar, among other things. I'm proud of her and the fact that she's working on her goals. But we talked for a while and I explained that I was struggling because I felt like there was a lot of pressure to lose my baby weight and get into those size 10 pants I talked about earlier.
But I felt like there are other things that require my attention more than caring about what I look like. I want to be a great mom to my boys, I want to change my schedule so I can make my days more effective, therefore getting more things done. I want to be a good wife to Josh and be there for him and help him with whatever he may need. I want to work on building my writing hobby into a full fledged career (once my boys are older). But most of all, I want to work on reading my scriptures and saying my prayers more regularly so I can be a good example to my kids.
It dawned on me that it matters more what's on the inside than what's on the outside.
I've been putting myself down for so long, worrying that I'll never fit into my size 8's again, wondering if I'd ever be seen as attractive or smart if I can't seem to lose weight.
Going back to mine and Josh's discussion last night, I asked him what he thought about me dieting and trying to lose weight. With his knowledge of what I'd already tried and things I'd failed with, he thought for a minute before repeating what he'd said at least a dozen times in the past, but it had never stuck, until then.
"If you're working out occasionally, eating relatively healthy and you're confident with yourself, that's what I find really sexy."
I am so grateful for Josh because he's told me for years that he doesn't give a damn about a number on a scale or on the tag of my jeans. He cares about how I feel about myself, which has been life changing. He's told me that he cares more about intelligence and the pursuit of knowledge in me rather than my looks (although he's been very supportive of my 3-4 times a week workouts). He works with me on my writing projects, helping me iron out kinks and solve problems. He works hard to help me get better in chess and he's done research and bought me a couple vocabulary building books because he know's its important to me.
He also gives me the freedom to love the things I want to without feeling judged. I struggled for a long time in high school because I wanted to love wearing comfy clothes and being a total geek, but I felt like it wasn't the proper girly thing to do. I did play video games with boyfriends but only occasionally. I didn't really talk about my love of the fantasy genre, or Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, and how I sometimes felt more comfortable hanging out alone when everyone assumed I was crazy extroverted.
But Josh lets me love the things I do with the passion I've always felt in my heart. And yes, he supports me in killing off any and every character I feel like needs to die a horrific death.
It's terribly refreshing to be married to such a man. He's told me directly that he doesn't expect me to fit back into a size 2. He realizes that my actual bone structure wouldn't allow it, even if I did get back down to the 125 lbs I once knew and loved. He's told me directly that he loves a little extra poundage and he doesn't mind at all that I'm a bit heavier. More to love, in his eyes.
I don't take Josh for granted. My anxiety forces me to imagine life without him, but I push it out quickly since it's almost unbearable; I won't dwell on it even now since I don't like even writing that last sentence.
I used to think I was crazy for getting married as young as I did, even though I'd prayed about it and felt confident with my decision. I wondered for the first two years of marriage why exactly I'd met my companion at age 16, fell in love with him at 17 and married him 12 days after turning 18. I kept wondering why God had confirmed to me that Josh was the one when he wasn't at all like the other guys I'd dated in the past (I counted my exes one day, it was well over fifteen people in four years of dating. I was stupid) even physically, he was the opposite. Josh isn't the type to fawn over me, spoil me rotten, cuddle for hours after the kids go down or go out and buy me a dozen red roses. (cut flowers die to quickly to make financial sense, he says) We don't kiss often and its especially rare when we're spending time with family and friends. We both like our space when we're sleeping (hence the king sized bed) and we will likely never find common ground when it comes to which type of toast is best; barely crispy (him) or nearly black (me).
But he helps me grow my mind, my faith, and he promotes positive body image; something I didn't even know I needed. He encourages me to be the real, true me and he's complimented me on how I've blossomed in my own self since we've been married. And I agree.
Like I said before, my sister and her husband love to exercise and get fit together. My parents are some of the cuddliest people I know and my brother and his wife follow suit. Josh and I love to talk philosophically with one another, bouncing opinions and ideas off each other. We love discovering new Animes' and playing new video games together. We love being in the same room with each other but not interacting since we both know that the other needs some personal recharge time after a long day. And it works for us.
That was a huge tangent, but I will not apologize.
Back to my point, my positive body image journey is still in its infancy and I know that eventually I'll find complete peace in myself. I'll be able to look in the mirror and smile at myself, not because I'm acne free or because I fit into those tiny jeans or into that size medium top. But because I'm loving who I'm becoming as a person.
It's going to be a real project and I can see the results of this idea already. On Monday, I felt so comfortable with my thighs (I actually thought that I loved how they felt on my body, which is something I hadn't said in years) and it felt so freeing.
The media tends to say only two things; Get skinny or you're not pretty and love yourself whatever size you are; you're beautiful either way.
I wish the media would work more on teaching people to be loving and tolerant and accepting of others with opposing views. What about faith in our Father in Heaven and what about being humble and charitable and forgiving? (Forgiveness is the bane of my existence it seems like sometimes, I'm the worst person I know when it comes to holding grudges. I'm adding that to my list of things to work on......)
If loving yourself is radical, I want to be the most radical person on the planet. And that's even without being a size 14, which I'm not. But I'd rather be intelligent, a good wife and mother, and a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints who has a testimony as strong as steel. Then I'll work on being skinny, for weight is just a number.
Life is good. God is good. And in the words of Edward Elric, "Stand up and walk. Keep moving forward. You've got two good legs, so get up and use them. You're strong enough to make your own path."
And to finish this post for good, I read something on Pinterest that made me laugh. It said, "Mother Theresa didn't worry about the size of her thighs, she had shit to do."
Love, Mackenzie
Anyway, I've struggled with positive body image ever since I've been married and it became more intense when I had my two babies. When I first got married, I didn't have my mom there to tell me what to eat to stay skinny and I ate horribly, making me jump up from a 2 to an 8 in just six months. So it was all my fault, in case somebody out there was concerned that Josh was making me feel like shit. No. More on that in a minute.
It only became worse when I had Lincoln, because I was a solid size 10, but I felt like my weight was well distributed and I loved the way my butt looked!
Not long after that, I became pregnant with Noah and I kept my weight down through working out regularly and trying to eat healthy. But then I had a few complications, making me bedridden for the last three months of my pregnancy. I moved back in with my parents so my mom could help me with Lincoln and Josh stayed living at his mom's house so he wouldn't be so far from work.
So I was left to my own devices in terms of food purchasing, since I was 6 months pregnant, I didn't want to be too concerned about my eating habits, but that came back to bite me in the ass.
When I had Noah, I was 195 lbs. Before I could ask the nurse at my last doctors appointment to not tell me, she blurted it out and I was horrified. In high school I only weighed 125 lbs so adding 70 onto that was the worst.
It's been almost two years since Noah entered this world, and even though he's been way harder than Lincoln and it's been really difficult to parent him, I've wanted to lose my extra poundage that hasn't really left me since then. I fluctuate between 170 and 175 lbs, and I became so obsessed with my scale after giving birth, Josh threw out my scale. Best decision for me ever.
As some people might know, I've had a bit of an identity crisis since having Lincoln. I remember the moment distinctly in my head, I can see it even now. He was two weeks old and Josh was on his way home from work and it hit me; I had no idea who Mackenzie Anne Smith Packer was. I didn't know what I wanted most out of life and what my goals were and how I wanted to raise this little being I had been taking care of.
It was terrifying for me to feel that way, to be honest. I'd always felt so confident and fine with who I was, I felt myself sinking into a deep despair. I had a lot of discussions right away with Josh and he did his very best to try and help me make sense of things.
Anyway, I've been working on working through this conundrum for over three years and I think I've finally turned a new leaf.
Josh and I were getting ready for bed last night when I sat under the covers and looked over at him while he brushed his teeth. I explained to him that I had a revelation.
All my life, I thought that skinny means beauty. Skinny means people will take you seriously and you'll be more well liked and you'll get more out of life. And maybe all those things are true for some people, but it hit me yesterday when we put the boys down.
I discussed my idea with my sister. She loves getting healthy and working out with her husband in the mornings and finding new yummy meals that don't have any added sugar, among other things. I'm proud of her and the fact that she's working on her goals. But we talked for a while and I explained that I was struggling because I felt like there was a lot of pressure to lose my baby weight and get into those size 10 pants I talked about earlier.
But I felt like there are other things that require my attention more than caring about what I look like. I want to be a great mom to my boys, I want to change my schedule so I can make my days more effective, therefore getting more things done. I want to be a good wife to Josh and be there for him and help him with whatever he may need. I want to work on building my writing hobby into a full fledged career (once my boys are older). But most of all, I want to work on reading my scriptures and saying my prayers more regularly so I can be a good example to my kids.
It dawned on me that it matters more what's on the inside than what's on the outside.
I've been putting myself down for so long, worrying that I'll never fit into my size 8's again, wondering if I'd ever be seen as attractive or smart if I can't seem to lose weight.
Going back to mine and Josh's discussion last night, I asked him what he thought about me dieting and trying to lose weight. With his knowledge of what I'd already tried and things I'd failed with, he thought for a minute before repeating what he'd said at least a dozen times in the past, but it had never stuck, until then.
"If you're working out occasionally, eating relatively healthy and you're confident with yourself, that's what I find really sexy."
I am so grateful for Josh because he's told me for years that he doesn't give a damn about a number on a scale or on the tag of my jeans. He cares about how I feel about myself, which has been life changing. He's told me that he cares more about intelligence and the pursuit of knowledge in me rather than my looks (although he's been very supportive of my 3-4 times a week workouts). He works with me on my writing projects, helping me iron out kinks and solve problems. He works hard to help me get better in chess and he's done research and bought me a couple vocabulary building books because he know's its important to me.
He also gives me the freedom to love the things I want to without feeling judged. I struggled for a long time in high school because I wanted to love wearing comfy clothes and being a total geek, but I felt like it wasn't the proper girly thing to do. I did play video games with boyfriends but only occasionally. I didn't really talk about my love of the fantasy genre, or Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, and how I sometimes felt more comfortable hanging out alone when everyone assumed I was crazy extroverted.
But Josh lets me love the things I do with the passion I've always felt in my heart. And yes, he supports me in killing off any and every character I feel like needs to die a horrific death.
It's terribly refreshing to be married to such a man. He's told me directly that he doesn't expect me to fit back into a size 2. He realizes that my actual bone structure wouldn't allow it, even if I did get back down to the 125 lbs I once knew and loved. He's told me directly that he loves a little extra poundage and he doesn't mind at all that I'm a bit heavier. More to love, in his eyes.
I don't take Josh for granted. My anxiety forces me to imagine life without him, but I push it out quickly since it's almost unbearable; I won't dwell on it even now since I don't like even writing that last sentence.
I used to think I was crazy for getting married as young as I did, even though I'd prayed about it and felt confident with my decision. I wondered for the first two years of marriage why exactly I'd met my companion at age 16, fell in love with him at 17 and married him 12 days after turning 18. I kept wondering why God had confirmed to me that Josh was the one when he wasn't at all like the other guys I'd dated in the past (I counted my exes one day, it was well over fifteen people in four years of dating. I was stupid) even physically, he was the opposite. Josh isn't the type to fawn over me, spoil me rotten, cuddle for hours after the kids go down or go out and buy me a dozen red roses. (cut flowers die to quickly to make financial sense, he says) We don't kiss often and its especially rare when we're spending time with family and friends. We both like our space when we're sleeping (hence the king sized bed) and we will likely never find common ground when it comes to which type of toast is best; barely crispy (him) or nearly black (me).
But he helps me grow my mind, my faith, and he promotes positive body image; something I didn't even know I needed. He encourages me to be the real, true me and he's complimented me on how I've blossomed in my own self since we've been married. And I agree.
Like I said before, my sister and her husband love to exercise and get fit together. My parents are some of the cuddliest people I know and my brother and his wife follow suit. Josh and I love to talk philosophically with one another, bouncing opinions and ideas off each other. We love discovering new Animes' and playing new video games together. We love being in the same room with each other but not interacting since we both know that the other needs some personal recharge time after a long day. And it works for us.
That was a huge tangent, but I will not apologize.
Back to my point, my positive body image journey is still in its infancy and I know that eventually I'll find complete peace in myself. I'll be able to look in the mirror and smile at myself, not because I'm acne free or because I fit into those tiny jeans or into that size medium top. But because I'm loving who I'm becoming as a person.
It's going to be a real project and I can see the results of this idea already. On Monday, I felt so comfortable with my thighs (I actually thought that I loved how they felt on my body, which is something I hadn't said in years) and it felt so freeing.
The media tends to say only two things; Get skinny or you're not pretty and love yourself whatever size you are; you're beautiful either way.
I wish the media would work more on teaching people to be loving and tolerant and accepting of others with opposing views. What about faith in our Father in Heaven and what about being humble and charitable and forgiving? (Forgiveness is the bane of my existence it seems like sometimes, I'm the worst person I know when it comes to holding grudges. I'm adding that to my list of things to work on......)
If loving yourself is radical, I want to be the most radical person on the planet. And that's even without being a size 14, which I'm not. But I'd rather be intelligent, a good wife and mother, and a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints who has a testimony as strong as steel. Then I'll work on being skinny, for weight is just a number.
Life is good. God is good. And in the words of Edward Elric, "Stand up and walk. Keep moving forward. You've got two good legs, so get up and use them. You're strong enough to make your own path."
And to finish this post for good, I read something on Pinterest that made me laugh. It said, "Mother Theresa didn't worry about the size of her thighs, she had shit to do."
Love, Mackenzie
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