Belly.
Even after gaining 72lbs while pregnant with my daughter 22 years ago, I had a flat stomach and began to get a tattoo of the sun. Being a work in progress, I didn't think about what the future would hold for myself and my body. Stretch marks meant nothing to me. I'm a mother. This is what happens to a woman's body. My belly never gave me pause. It wasn't an area that I concerned myself with on any level.
As my bulimia worsened so did my vision, the way I viewed my body. I saw every stretch mark. I saw every mole. And after my surgery to have fibroids removed, I developed a little pouch similar to what women have after a c-section. This was no longer my body. It was foreign to me. I disconnected with my body and to whatever it meant to be Rhonda. I had been so measured by my body that when it stopped looking the way I was use to looking, I let it go. The bulimia took over along with depression and anxiety and Rhonda was lost. Today, I'm striving to break free from this bondage of my body and being weighed and measured by what my ass or my belly may look like.
Imperfections abound. With the recent weight again in the last year, my belly, my ass, my tits all look different but I'm beautiful. I'm wonderful as is. My health hasn't been compromised by my weight gain and I'm seeing Rhonda again. This doesn't mean I don't want to lose weight but that my motives are different. I'm not concerning myself with how I'm viewed by others. God wants me free from all of that unnecessary strife. Its time to leave all of the depression good-bye. peace be still.
My belly is soft. My belly is lovable.
My belly is sexy.
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