I Have Earned My Face

So after reading the blog I shared in my previous post, I followed his recommendation and read this post by his wife about body image after she had her twins. I am still tearing up, because I know this daily battle she's describing, what it's like facing down a body so drastically changed. Because it's not just me who struggles to learn to love their skin again after a major life change. I love the phrase "The tiger earned her stripes" in reference to stretch marks, maybe because it's along the lines of what this brilliant woman describes in that mirror face down. You see these changes and try to love them for the badges of honor that they are. There is another quote, and for the life of me I cannot remember who said it, that at 40 a man has earned his face, and you can tell his story by the lines there. So I love this woman for her story lines.

And it does not have to be the marks of mother hood that may leave you struggling to love your new self. Maybe you dropped a lot of weight. Maybe you had surgery. Maybe you are just getting older. But she's right, it's all part of a story, and it made me think about my own mom. In a very different way, my mom has been going through just as much change as I have, one of new beginnings and sometimes painful endings. I watched her this weekend, and wished I could bring up the courage to say something as I saw her, in that same precarious moment that I find myself in now and then, when you want so much to let go and get back on the boat. It wasn't fear I'd upset her, or that I would look silly, but rather I was afraid to speak about something I personally was not going through. But the more I think about it, and reflecting on the words in the article above, I realize that while the details are different, we really are sharing the same tumultuous inner tube ride.

So here goes.

A Letter to my Momma,

I love you. I love you for every time you pick up the phone. For every time you listened to me bawl or bitch. For every time you held my hand. For showing me it was okay to cry. I love you for teaching me to nurture the world around me, from beans to my son to complete strangers. For showing me the importance of dirt and the healing power of soup. I love you for every time you lost your temper,and apologized. Every time you got knocked down, then got back up again. For every time you forgave others, and are learning to forgive yourself. How you treat others, and are learning to treat yourself.
 I love you for every milk weed pod and firefly, for every skinned up knee and walk on the beach. I love you for every line on your face, because they are a story of a woman who loved with every part of herself, who lost and got hurt and kept hoping.  I love you for when you are vulnerable, when you are scared or sad or in pain, because you remind me that these are part of life too and that it's good to know those feelings, and then to keep moving forward. I love your your laugh, which is infectious, and apologizes for nothing.I love you for you strength, both of your spirit and of your body because you taught me that I can take on the world with the right attitude and make my own way when there is none to follow, that I am capable of miracles.

I know right now it might be hard to understand or accept that this moment in time is but a moment, and the things we feel now are not forever, and who we are now is not all of who we will be. But the next time you look in the mirror momma, and you're heart gets heavy because you might be struggling in that moment, know that every day when your daughter does the same, she will remember where those story lines on her belly lead in part because of the amazing ones that proceeded hers. And while that will not always mean we can let go of our doubts and our fears completely, it will remind us of how sacred our stories and our moments are, every memory of the feeling of our father's hands, of our brother's scars, the smell of our newborn children, the heartbeats of the people we love.

In that moment, momma, neither of us are ever alone.

Love,

Bear.