what is self love
19/31 stream of consciousness stream
sometimes the loneliest part of postpartum/ early motherhood is the body. the mothers body. my body. how it stretched and stretched to make room for another human inside of me. how my boobs also stretched and stretched to make food for the human inside of me. and now that the human is outside of me the body does not return instantly to how it was before. and today that annoyed me, and i think its okay that it annoyed me. people tell me all the time to give myself grace, that i created a human. and i scoff. i know. i know i did. but it feels like we are gaslighting mothers when we say chill out, because if the roles were reversed if you were in my shoes you would understand. its not that we necessarily want to be thin/ are trapped by society’s obsession with thinness. or at least i can only speak for myself here but i simply want my body back, what i have known my whole life. i realize though i may never get it back, not like before, we cannot go back only forward. and thats okay, really what im looking for, what mothers are looking for is solidarity. because its hard to witness your whole life and body stretch so much it changes shapes.
theres the person I want to be, and the person I am. not in any sort of moral sense, maybe in an intellectual sense, or maybe in a core sense? or maybe this isnt making sense. maybe i admire people and want to be like them but im not. im in my luteal phase, can you tell? i always second guess myself during my luteal phase. i guess its the comparison spell. its such a lonely thing to compare yourself to others, please dont do it. you are just as interesting as you are.
Olga T said in an interview that the novel is dead. she also said she uses AI to help write her books but i care less about that and more about her thoughts on the novel being dead. someone said the novel is dead if you are creating in a product sense, which i guess she is. churning out books for money, as a product. i wont get into the idea of making art for a product and art eventually becoming a product (?) or at least i wont get into doing things for money because i think honestly money is on most of our minds. but someones argument was that if you are using AI to help write your books you are doing it for wealth and not for the art or expression, which i tend to agree with.
people are talking a lot about this book called yesteryear where it talks about trad wife and mom influencing. i thought i would care to talk more about this topic since becoming a mom but actually i care less to talk about it. it was more fun to pontificate before i became a mom, and then once i had amos everything changed. so much gets thrown out the window when you have a kid of what you thought you would do when you have a kid. the holier than thou stuff gets stripped. the first year is survival mode. so i hear. and that has been my experience so far, which is not to say i am not enjoying it but there is more nuances and layers to motherhood than ive every experienced. there are so many variables, and at what point do we stop dogging on mothers? its an impossible experience, there is always something you are doing wrong, there is always something someone has to say. after having a baby i see mostly humility in moms.
today i watched as amos was holding his bunny stuffed animal. i watched both of his hands slowly grab the arms of bunny and move them around. his consciousness moves at a glacial pace, which is refreshing. he is “manipulating” the toy, as my baby app would say. which is a funny word to use, it sounds sinister like he is forcing it to do something against its will, which i guess technically he is. (god i love language) the best thing is getting to watch his consciousness develop in real time.
what does it look like to do something for yourself? its a question i started with at the beginning of this practice. i am trying to refocus on that today. my luteal phase or something has my head split. i have been antsy all day. sometimes the monotony of life grates on me. i am long overdue for a trip, i need to see something new, go to a new coffeeshop, sit in a new park.
the rain is falling, pitter pattering on the leaves outside my window in the library. i can hear the car tires splash through the rain on the street. rain at night like this is the best, when its steady like this, not too strong, no thunder or lightning, just a gentle wash on everything, my thoughts, my insecurities, my brain fog, my doubts, the bad day washing away away away. what will i do for myself? how will i show myself self love? writing this today helped. i was in a hole today, but i came out to write. the hole makes me bitter. the hole is dark and muddy and there are bugs here that i try to swat away and i cant see anyone up there, but i can hear them, and the my thoughts are so loud in the hole, sadness is at the bottom of the pit, now i am just feeling sorry for myself, indulging in the melancholy, fishing for compliments. and i get them all day, what am i complaining about? amos touches my face and smiles everyday, hayden tells me how much he loves me every day, gordy gives me kisses everyday. and how do i show myself i love myself everyday?
