My Partner Made Me Feel Ashamed Of My Pregnant Body


Scary Mommy and Burak Karademir/Getty

Trigger warning: verbal abuse and home violence


The hardest a part of my pregnancy was my body altering.

Domestic violence hit me the toughest throughout this time.

This is why I get emotional once I legit see pregnant mommas residing their finest lives with their miraculous rising bods — oh, I see you.

Being with somebody that tugged on my thighs and checked out different women from prime to backside that had been match, constructed, and gearing up for spring break and me, at my core, feeling the heaviest and ugliest, sweating profusely, very pregnant, making an attempt to stroll for 20 minutes on incline on the college gymnasium.

I felt my garments didn’t hug my bump cutely like others. I refused to purchase maternity denims till mine busted from being saved along with a hair tie — and in direction of the top, I didn’t need to go away the home in any respect.

I felt a lot disgrace for my pregnant body — if I’m being trustworthy, hatred for it.

I keep in mind wanting beneath the sheets quickly after delivering and realizing I nonetheless remained there — pregnant showing, however now no youngster inside me.

I keep in mind weeping within the bathe, leaning in opposition to the wall, and seeing my modified body seem beneath me.

I wept for this body I imagined as quickly as these 9 months had been over.

My companion, throwing a women’s fitness journal at me whereas we had been nonetheless on the hospital, telling me that it ought to make me really feel higher and get motivated that at some point I might seem like them once more.

I keep in mind being in labor and my nurses and wanting them to cover and their shifts to be over as a result of they had been cute and I knew I couldn’t compete — whereas giving start.

I keep in mind juggling daily after … shedding weight fiercely and means too shortly whereas breastfeeding as a result of I wanted to “get it back.”

I keep in mind having piles of animal crackers on my Boppy pillow at night time whereas my nursing son was absorbing vitamins from my epic body, and me counting the person animals, making an attempt to inform myself I couldn’t eat too many.

I keep in mind my first post-birth stroll, post-birth run.

I keep in mind shorts being gifted to me after he went on a procuring spree, with a pair of tennis sneakers, and pulling them up and realizing they had been too tight nonetheless. Thinking he could have purchased that dimension on goal so I have to match into them.

Talking to my therapist the opposite day, who’s a male, I advised him how I wrestle with my after-appendectomy body, my after-baby body, and the way I really feel like I nonetheless get held again due to these voices in my head. I can know they don’t seem to be my fact. But I hear them nonetheless. I’m bored with them.

As I advised him, “When I look in the mirror, still after all this time — I still hear his voice in my head.”

“Saggy. Boob. Bitch.”



… And the dishonest didn’t assist.

You didn’t like that language? Yeah, I didn’t both.

You know what I gotta say in response to this? Wear the dang bathing go well with.


Don’t simply put on it — personal your body in it. All these scars, stretch marks and items of your body that inform your story. Allow them to be seen, honored and heard.

I ought to’ve been capable of stroll across the hospital for my first post-birth stroll and never really feel like each different girl or man would assume I nonetheless regarded pregnant. I ought to have strutted my stuff, understanding I had an extremely onerous pregnancy; mentally, emotionally, sexually, and bodily. I birthed a healthy baby, the sweetest, most lovely human that made me into an epically modified girl.

Do not, for another second, preserve your soul at dwelling whenever you resolve to convey your body out.

Do not do it any longer.

Go examine your self out proper now. Breathe her in. She is mighty, robust, good, horny, fierce, clever, courageous, resilient and her body tells essentially the most epic of tales — one in all her life.

Wear. The. Bathing. Suit.

And every time you scan the pool or scan your self, remind your self that you’re a straight up masterpiece.

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