My redwood trees

The other night I woke up around 3:00 a.m. for princess baby's usual nighttime feeding.  As I walked into the bathroom to make the bottle, I looked at my arms in the mirror and grimaced.  Ug!  I HATE my arms.  They are like two of those huge redwood trees, only flabby.    I made a mental note to myself about how I was feeling.

I am working on improving my self image.  On loving myself, because I am not my body.  I am a good, strong, loving person.

These arms have rocked my six little babies to sleep.  They wrap around my 8 year old when her feelings get hurt, and they comfort my 14 year old when he does something stupid.  And if I'm really lucky, they also give hugs back to the big 16 when he's not feeling too cool to hug his mom.    These arms have held my sweet hubby for 18 years of marriage. (and he's never complained)  :)

So why am I so hard on myself?  Why do I hate my body, and in turn occasionally hate myself for what I've become.   I think it is human nature to compare ourselves to others.  I think the world screams at us that we have to look perfect, be perfect.  That if we don't have a perfect body, that we are simply not good enough.  I am fighting that notion, but it is a daily battle.  Every day I have dozens of negative thoughts about myself go through my mind.  I am working on replacing those one at a time, but it is not easy.  Sometimes I have a hard time coming up with something that I do like about my body, then I just try to think about what I like about myself in general.   I'm hoping that practice makes perfect..... okay, maybe not perfect, just good enough.