I hate trying on clothes in a dressing room. I hate the lights. How the mirror is two feet from you and it shows everything. I hate how a kind-meaning sales lady will come asking how everything fits. I hate the gross floor that I have to put my feet on while I try on clothes. I hate how I will grab the size I think I am and a larger one to find that neither fit. I hate that I cry while I try clothes on. I hate how much I hate dressing rooms. I hate how my body looks.

Can you relate? Can us moms try to get past these feelings together? Our bodies are pretty awesome, no matter what happens inside those dumb dressing rooms.

My body is amazing and so is yours

My body has done a lot for me. I have born children. I have completed athletic feats. I can climb stairs and do most things I set my mind to do. I have woken up each morning and gone to bed most night saying “I did what I was able to do.” But that doesn’t change that I hate the way my body looks.

My youngest was born a year ago and my pre-pregnancy pants still don’t fit. One boob is larger than the other because that’s the side baby prefers. I have bags under my eyes and my five year old tells me that I look like a “panda bear.” I have a great case of “done lops” (where your belly done lops right over your pants) from a C-section three years ago.

I try to eat healthy, but I’m not good at forbidding foods and with a family to feed, it’s often not practical in the long term to feed them what my diet tells me I should eat. And to be frank I can never consistently have “diet food” in the house and ready to go. So I usually end up having dinosaur nuggets with the kids.

I try to workout, 3-4 times a week or as much as I can drag my carcass out of bed before the troops wake up in the morning. Because, let’s face it, once the kids are up it’s not going to happen.

Our kids notice how we treat our bodies

I am raising two girls and I hate for them to grow up and have hatred for the physical things about their bodies that I struggle with. I do my best to shield them from the pain I feel when I look at myself in the mirror.

If I could change my body I would, but at what cost? I’ve done the strict diet thing but turned into a raging bull to achieve the results I had. I could have plastic surgery, but that’s very expensive and would put me out of commission for longer than I can take right now. And as a lover of “Botched” scares the crap out of me. I can spend more time at the gym and working out, but who will do all the arts & crafts, and life with the kids while I’m gone? I can make the family eat what my ideal diet would have me eat, but I think their mutiny would be stronger than my resolve.

Let’s focus on the good things our bodies are doing and drop judgements

I know that this time will pass, and that my kids don’t see all the things that are “wrong” with my body. Instead they see what I do for them and that I am present with them. That I love them. And that is what matters most in the long run.

In the meantime, if you happen to be in the room next to me, please don’t judge. I am trying my best to love myself. I am working on it. My body that has carried me through so much and it’s the only one I’ll every have. I am thankful for what my body can do and am working on loving it in thought and action more everyday.

To all those who feel what I do: I feel your pain, I understand your struggle and I applaud your strive.