Sunday, 10 August 2014
My friend is a super hero. Ten days ago, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Now, after what was most certainly the hardest, most energy sapping endurance event of her life so far, she's fully recovered and getting used to life as a mum.
For almost nine months, I've watched and marvelled at how her body has adapted to grow this miniature person. From bones softening to stomach muscles separating, her body has done some amazing, crazy, horrifying things but being healthy and strong has helped it cope. And now, with baby Rosie's old home still plump, my friend couldn't care less that she still looks pregnant. She's proud of what her body has done, who cares what it looks like!
This is all I'll ever ask of mine. As long as my body can carry me and support me in whatever I want to put it through, I'll be happy. If I can't fit into a bikini or favourite little black dress, I'll give up on them, send them to charity and get something that fits. If I can't make it up a mountain, however, I'll go away, train to get stronger and come back for another try until I can celebrate at the top like Rocky.
Stomachs aren't meant to be flat, we're not boxes, humans are lumpy – where else would we store the muscles, organs and flesh that support us in life's adventures? I'd much rather have bumps if it means they'll help me do something amazing like swim for miles, run an ultra or, one day, make another human being.
It's what's inside that counts.
Posted by Jen Slater