I love this video of mom, musician and writer Alexa Wilding talking about what it means to lose your body to pregnancy and motherhood and the pressure we feel to “get our bodies back.”
I weighed myself this morning and I’m down to 121 lbs (55 kg). I’m 5’8″ so this is on the lower end of a healthy weight for my height, the elusive “happy weight” of my 20s, where I can fit into sample sale clothes without a hint of a muffin top.
I am thin right now. I lose a pound every few days. I can zip up things I’d relegated to the “well, my daughter can wear this one day” pile.
What’s my secret? How did I get my body back? Was it Whole30, HIIT, a juice cleanse, colonics?
Nope, nope, nope and nope.
I have been in the throes of a marital crisis for the past six weeks. I don’t know if I’m getting separated, divorced. I feel untethered from reality. Gravity doesn’t work. Everything I thought I believed about my marriage and my family enduring—no matter what—has been completely upended. The sky is green. Not a single day has gone by this past month without me crying. My heart lives in my throat. I’ve slept through one night in forty-four days. For the first time in my life, I’ve experienced the warm hugs of Xanax, Vicodin, Klonopin. Christ, what took me so long? (Not to worry, I only tried them once each. Borrowed pills.)
It’s almost impossible to work. A chaotic mind doesn’t lend itself to writing. I eat infrequently. The “Divorce Diet,” my husband-for-now and I jokingly call it. Except laughter flips too easily to tears and the whole cycle of crying, not eating, not sleeping starts all over again.
But goddammit, I can fit into my skinniest jeans again.*
* This diet is not recommended. Love your body. Love food. Love sleep. Love love. Things are better since this writing, but I wanted to explain where I’ve been.
