What about "MyBod"?
- Mama C
- May 13, 2015
- 3 min read
So there is this movement out there about the "DadBod"….pictures and articles and blog posts all about how a man with a little bit of cush around the middle is hot...or at least, socially acceptable. As soon as the "Dad Bod" came into play, the "MomBod" movement was right behind it....or rather, gained a little more attention (which in my opinion has a valid place in the spotlight because the media has created such a huff about strong legs or cellulite or heaven forbid stretch marks).
I have no problem with men or women who look this way or are trying to push the image. I am a believer in loving the body you have, even if you are striving to gain more health and balance in your life.
What I do have a problem with is the notion that we have to label yet another body.
“MomBod”.”DadBod”.” HardBod”. “PregnantBod”. What about “MyBod”?!
“MyBod” is not like anyone else’s. Yes, I am a mom...and I have a body. Yes, I am a coach and athlete....and I have a body. Yes, I am a woman....and I have a body. But it's my body and I won't have anyone label it at all....unless it's labeled "MyBod."
“MyBod” is strong.
It squats, it runs, it skips, it jumps. It lifts babies out of cribs when they cry and picks them up when they fall. It carries dog food, and groceries, and kiddos, and heavy weights. It throws babies high in the air and runs around the backyard to play chase.
“MyBod” is soft.
It has curves in all the right places. It is a pillow for small humans to cuddle on. It is smooth to the touch and soft to the heart. It is delicate and intimate and perfect.
“MyBod” is brave.
It birthed a child, naturally and lovingly, and fearlessly. It puts itself out there to do things its’ never done. Like walking on my hands, or moving more weight that I thought, or giving of itself to another living, breathing being. It bears all knowing there could be ridicule and resentment or judgement.
“MyBod” is perfectly imperfect.
It has bumps and dips and sags. It doesn’t look like it did when it was 20 but it also has more to offer and give than it did then. It has been stretched and molded. It has freckles and spots and uneven lines. But it is perfectly imperfect...as am I.
“MyBod” is resilient.
It has been skinny. It has been fat. It has been pregnant. It has been empty. It has been fit. It has been abused. It has been loved. It has been broken and fixed. It has been patched and rebuilt. But it bounces back...every. single. time.
“MyBod” is sacred.
It houses my soul. The essence of who I am. It holds my faults and my strengths. It cradles my passion and my fears. It creates and grows life, my own and that of others. Within it, I have the ability to protect other souls.
“MyBod” is mine.
It's no one else’s. No one gets to label it. Judge it. Resent it. Or demean it. No one gets to tell me what to do with it. No one gets to tell me how to cover it or reveal it. Or move it. No one tells me what I can put on it, or in it, or around it. The only things you can do with it is LOVE it...with my permission.
This is “MyBod”. Not “YourBod”. Not “My KidsBod”. It's mine and I only get this one. So I will care for it, and cherish it, and value it and love it til the end of time.
Because it's mine.
All mine.
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