“I don’t spend my life in front of a camera. But I still feel pressure to appear a certain way.”
There was no shaming moment during my tender puberty years.
No helpful tip in Seventeen magazine.
I didn’t gain twenty pounds overnight.
It just happened.
I started sucking in my stomach.
What began as a bit of an experiment snowballed into necessity before I even realized. And now it’s as natural as breathing. With every glance in the mirror, ‘candid’ photo, chance encounter—schwoop! In it goes.
I’ve tried to let it out. Just to see what it looks like. But let me tell you, it’s not nearly as good as the streamlined version.
I feel more confident, more beautiful, more in control. . .
The other day I read about a female movie star who admitted to wearing two corsets for 24 hours a day to regain her pre-baby hotness.
I was appropriately horrified.
And immediately climbed up on my soapbox.
I lamented about the example she was setting for her two little girls, and the message it sends them when Mommy wears a corset to get skinny.
I complained about the impressionable women and teenagers reading the article, taking her disordered measures as a recommendation.
And I may have self-righteously thought I would never go to such extremes. I may have given myself a mental high-five for being so comfortable in my own skin. For being such a great example of what it looks like to be healthy and at home in what my Creator saw fit to give me.
But I’m not quite off the hook am I?