In my adolescent years, a close friend once playfully placed her hand on my lower abdomen while we savored soft serve ice cream. With a firm grip, she exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, I adore this.” In that moment, I felt no embarrassment; after all, she was my confidante. We had shared countless experiences, from trying on bras in unflattering dressing rooms to laughing until tears streamed down our faces. She had witnessed me in various swimsuits, each one attempting to camouflage my little belly pooch, yet with no success. I envied her ability to love my body while she flaunted her flat stomach.
From an early age, I was aware of my potbelly. Even as a slender child, there was always a noticeable curve just below my belly button. Once puberty hit, I quickly realized that indulging in my favorite foods came at a price; they settled right on my abdomen and love handles, when I would have preferred them on my thighs. Despite having defined edges, there were also soft curves that I longed to change.
During high school, I typically wore a size 8, potbelly included. I went through a phase where I believed I would be happier if I achieved a model-thin physique by limiting my calorie intake to just 1,200 calories a day. While I managed to shed 20 pounds, my belly remained, a persistent reminder that this was my natural form. No amount of self-deprivation could alter the fact that I was meant to have that curve. Eventually, I grew tired of the restrictive diet and embraced the reality of my body, even if I still wished for flat abs.
Now in my 40s and after bringing three wonderful children into the world, I have learned to accept my belly as it is. It’s not going anywhere. I run 40 miles weekly, pushing myself in half-marathon training, and I’ve come to recognize that the pooch is a normal part of me.
Often, we forget that “normal” encompasses a wide spectrum, especially regarding our bodies. After having children, my body changed, and I went up a few sizes; this was my normal. A friend of mine felt disheartened after her third child when her size increased from 2 to 8, but both sizes were normal. Another friend enjoys nachos and margaritas, finding joy in walks for mental clarity rather than physical appearance, and she embraces her size 12 body. Ashley Graham, a role model of mine, proudly showcases her curves, embodying what is normal. Conversely, my sister-in-law, an athlete with very low body fat and rock-hard abs, also represents normalcy.
We all have our unique bodies, and each is deserving of love and acceptance. Our bellies, sensitive and soft, serve vital functions—protecting organs, processing food, and nurturing new life. They should be celebrated, regardless of their size. Perfection is not a tangible goal; rather, it exists in the body we inhabit at this very moment. Whether one has a thigh gap or a potbelly, each body is a work of art.
As we navigate our journeys, we must treat ourselves with the same kindness that we would offer our friends. Every body tells a story worth embracing.
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In conclusion, embracing our bodies, with all their unique characteristics, is essential for our well-being. It’s vital to remember that every individual’s journey is distinct, and love for oneself is the first step towards happiness.
Keyphrase: embracing belly pooch
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