I'm sure you're familiar with model Chrissy Teigen, who has graced the coveted cover of Sports Illustrated's swimsuit issue, Vogue, Cosmopolitan and many more glossies. She is also a TV host, a cooking writer and a red carpet darling, who attends every major award show with husband John Legend.
She is beautiful, has an incredible body and seems perfect.
But recently, she showed how human and imperfect she is with an Instagram post displaying her stretch marks.
Naturally, the web world went crazy.
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Every news outlet proudly showed the image, which, by the way, includes an adorable puppy. Media critics talked about how awesome it is that she does not perpetuate the unachievable and idealized image society has of women in entertainment. They said it was also a great way to empower her female audience into accepting their own flawed bodies, show how real women look and not allow appearances to define who women are or what they can accomplish in life.
Overall, it was a great day for self-esteem and positive body image. I loved it and felt it was a great move on Teigen's part. However! I questioned: why is she being glorified by everyone for such a "brave" statement, but moms all over the world are ridiculed and critized when they do the same? Are her stretch marks better than mine? Does she get a pass because she is a public figure? By all means, I am happy the response to her post was so positive.
But why it is the opposite for moms?
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Chrissy is not a mother yet. She probably got her "stretchies" from body weight change when she was growing up. So why are mine considered embarrassing when they're the proof that a life was carried inside me? Why does society make moms feel ashamed of the way their bodies change during pregnancy, instead of supporting them for surviving such a challenging battle? I gained 25 pounds in my first pregnancy, and my body looked the same afterwards. But during my second one, I gained 48 pounds, had a 9-pound, 4-ounce son, and, obviously, gained some stretch marks.
I mean, I'm 115 pounds and my newborn son looked like a 3 month old baby. I haven't worn a swimsuit ever since, and that saddens me.
Why have I allowed the way people think to determine the way I dress? If I was courageous enough to bring a child into this world, why am I not brave enough to expose my body? Why do we hide the most amazing part of ourselves in shame and discomfort, when we should be honored to say, "Yes! I got stretch marks, but that's a meaningless price to pay for having such beautiful treasures in my life."
The one thing I'm most proud of is being a mother. Nothing I have ever accomplished in my life comes even remotely close to the joy I feel about been a mom. I want my children to know that I bear my scars with love, because they symbolize the connection between them and me.
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They are unpleasant reminders of the most exciting moment in my life: the journey towards becoming their mom.
