I don't think those things really count. So I'm going to attempt to be really real with you for a second.
Right now, 3 months-post-second-baby, I weigh the most I have ever weighed in my life.
And it doesn't take long to realize that for that simple fact, the world wants you to feel like garbage.
And if I put all my self confidence into that number on a scale, then it's true: I must have less worth right now than I've ever had in my life. Right?
Ugh. It's hard. It's hard to break out of that cycle of believing that your worth has anything at all to do with your pant size.
It doesn't.
And I won't pretend to be some perfect, totally self-actualized person on the subject. But since no one else is really saying it, I will.
IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER.
Your health, yes. It matters. Your comfort? Sure.
But there is SO much more.
There is your endless list of talents. The things you do better than anyone you know, but you don't spend much time thinking about that because you're spending too much time (and "too much" really, is any time at all) thinking about your weight, wishing you looked like someone else.
There is your family. Parents, siblings, husband, kids, pets, whatever you have. They matter. They matter so much more, but let's face it, sometimes they get pushed to the side while we focus on getting swimsuit-ready, or obsess over that relief-society arm.
There are millions of books to be read, movies to be seen, conversations to be had, hobbies to be tried, pictures to be taken, lives to be lived and those things, those moments, have absolutely nothing to do with your weight.
Nothing.
Are the people who love you most going to love you more if you lose weight?
Of course not. And if they do, then find new friends.
Your life is not being lived in a "before" photo. We've all seen them. An overweight, unsmiling person, who claims that when they had that extra fat on their body, they were completely unhappy. It's like they weren't born until they lost the weight. THEN they started living. So we see that, over and over, and we think, I can't wait. I am going to lose weight, and then I can start living too.
I can say, even when I weighed my lowest (which was like, 7 lbs, and that's just totally unattainable) I was never totally happy with my body. And this voice in the back of my mind reminds me of that all the time. My goal weight looms in front of me like this beacon, but I know that even if I reach it, I won't suddenly start loving all my flaws. I won't ACTUALLY be a better person. I'll just be a skinnier person.
And the more I think about it, the more I am convinced: it just doesn't matter.
So go ahead and focus on you. Take your me-time. Exercise, if you like to exercise, and eat good food because it's good for you. Quit soda because it made you feel bad. Eat treats only on a special occasion.
But stop, stop thinking your life doesn't matter when you're "fat".
It matters just as much.
You're living it, right now, whether you are happy with your body or not.
So be happy with it. Love yourself. Go kiss those babies that gave you some extra weight, enjoy that brownie instead of shaming yourself for eating it, and don't believe the lie that if the number on the scale creeps up, the things you do won't matter quite as much.
You are worth so much more than your weight.
