This Body

This body
This fat body
Grew you

Birthed you

Fed you

These arms

These fat arms

All bingo wings and stretch marks

Carried you everywhere

Cuddled you as you napped

Stayed awake long nights holding you,

Comforting cries of hunger or pain

Make cakes for you

Still hug you close each day

The legs

These fat legs

Thunder thighs and chub rub

Walked your buggy til you slept

Bounced you on their knees

Paddled with you in the sea

Ran up and down stairs in answer to your call

This bottom 

This fat bottom 

Sat beside your car seat on every journey

Sits in the audience of all your shows

Will sit with you whenever you need me

This stomach

This fat stomach

Stretched and grew to accommodate you

What more does it need to offer 

After that?

This face

This fat, round face

Double chin, hint of a wrinkle,

Smiles

Laughs

Sings for you

Answers questions

Watches you grow and learn and live

Will be the face you remember

When you miss home

Or grow old, long after I am gone 

This fat body 

Has served and loved and taught you

Sacrificed

Adapted

Offered itself up

For you

Yet,

Someone,

Somewhere,

Somehow, 

Taught you to be ashamed of me

Told you

Fat is offensive

Fat is embarrassing 

Fat is displeasing 

How did they get to you?

When I have hidden those negative thoughts from you. 

When I have neutralised fat.

Used it as descriptor

Stated it as fact

Never shied away from the truth of my size

Fat 

And

Beautiful. 

Lived each day 

Speaking only good things about my body

Talking up 

Strong legs

And kind arms

Praising the tummy that was your home

Even when everything I see and hear

Seems to say

I am disgusting

Everything people do not want to be

Lazy, greedy, ugly, bad

Who ruined your precious heart? 

Made you look at me and see something to avoid?

Gave you the fear of speaking the word?

Started you doubting

Your own beauty?

I am fat!

Yes. 

Like Ursula

That fabulous sea witch. 

I am fat. 

Let your sister speak it.

She is not afraid of it. 

Yet. 

But

Deep inside -

And there is a lot of me

So it could be very deep -

I know that

Fear that

Somehow,

Somewhere,

Someone 

Will get to her too. 

And she will turn

And look at me

And feel the same shame

I have felt all my life. 

She will secretly hope to never be like me. 

Dear one

Don’t be that someone. 

Look at me

Look at this

This body

This beautiful 

Strong

Generous

Good

Hardworking

Protective

Nurturing

Soft

Loving

Damned beautiful 

Body

And love me for who I am

For all that I am

And all that I do

All that I have done and will do 

For you

To love yourself 

Will be

My enduring gift to you. 

©️Laura Moore 2020

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Thankful Thursday - Myself

Self praise is difficult for me. I struggle -  as many do - with my self esteem. So, it's about time that I thought about myself and what about me I am grateful for. It has taken a lot of thought, but I've managed to select 5 things about myself that make me thankful.

1: My body conceived, grew and birthed two beautiful little girls. If I'd had to write this 5 years ago, I would have been unable to be feel grateful for my body. I hated it. Passionately. I considered myself ugly and my body to be a failure. Becoming a mother gave me a whole new view. How could my body be worthless when it could produce such marvels? When it could stretch and mould and contract in such amazing ways? When it could accomodate a growing baby and then push it out into the world? Women become mothers every day. It's hardly a rarity. I'm not unique. And yet, the miracle of pregnancy and childbirth was - for me - not just the new lives blossoming, but the realisation that, despite appearances to the contrary, I really am "fearfully and wonderfully made!"

2: I am organised. I like knowing what's happening, when and where, and this desire enables us to be much less stressed. There isn't so much running around at the last minute as there would be if I wasn't so good at organising. Oh, there's always some panic as we try to get out of the house, but we have two children now - they're not organised. Yet!

3: I get passionate about things I believe are important. I'm thankful for my passion and eagerness because there are changes that need to be made in the world. We are called to "speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves," and that's a gift I have in abundance. My passion has helped a good number of people. Friends and aquaintances have thanked me for articles I've shared and advice I've given; others have asked me for help for themselves or their friends, because they know my passions have led to knowledge that can assist. I'm so grateful that I can be passionate, because I'm making a difference, even if it's only in my tiny corner of the world.

4: I make really delicious cakes. Seriously. I'm my own worst critic, and my decoration is never at the high standard I aim for, but the cakes? They taste amazing. I can't even eat shop bought cakes now, because my own are a million times tastier. Shop bought cakes taste bland to me, with artificial flavours and strange textures. I'm proud of my ability to make great tasting cakes, even if people are running away from sugar these days. I'm hoping that my delicious cakes will be a great way of keeping my kids and their friends hanging around our house!

5: I have a way with language. I'm capable of being straight to the point and diplomatic at the same time. I know how to use big words correctly. I have always been a big reader, and that has given me a large vocabulary. I love that I can influence others with what I can say and write. I love writing letters to my MP, writing blogposts, holding my own in discussions, being able to give clear explanations. I'm so grateful for the opportunities my language skills have given me.

There. Not my easiest post ever. But a necessary and important one. It's so hard to think well of myself at times. And I know I'm not the only person in the world who struggles in this way. So it has been hard, yet rewarding, to really look at myself and pick out the things that I grateful for, that make me who I am.

What do you love about yourself?

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Empowering My Daughter

An article I wrote for Plus Parents Magazine:
Personal Stories November 2012
By: Laura Moore 

Being overweight has been a constant issue in my life. I worked hard at school; I learnt how to make people laugh; I was friendly to everyone; but I never felt comfortable. It was always a case of making myself seem as small as possible, in the hope that people wouldn't notice me, or of being over-the-top funny in order to take the attention away from my size. I absolutely hated my body, and I knew it was the reason I never had a boyfriend. There was no way any man would ever be attracted to me. I was wrong, of course. In 2009 I married a tall, handsome man, in whom all my husband requirements were fulfilled. And he thinks I'm beautiful.

I grew up in a Christian family. We were brought up to believe that God doesn't make mistakes, and that we were "fearfully and wonderfully made." My body is "a temple of the Holy Spirit," and as such I ought to treat it with the utmost respect and care. But from the age of five years old I steadily increased in weight. I was put on steroids for my asthma, and despite only eating what the rest of my (slim and slender) family were eating, I got bigger and bigger. There were clear signs that my hormones were at fault, though doctor after doctor failed to pick up or acknowledge that, until I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) at the age of 27. One doctor even told me that perhaps I was just meant to be fat! I was bullied at school. I couldn't find fashionable clothes to fit me. I felt decidedly ugly. How could I reconcile what I saw in the mirror with this idea that my body was a perfect creation?

It wasn't until just over a year ago that I finally saw my body for what it really is...

I still don't see the beauty that my husband tells me is there, though I'm working on it. I'm four sizes bigger than the average UK or US woman; my stomach is big and hangs down; I have bingo-wings. However, I now have deep respect, pride and love for my body. Yes, I love my body - not for how it looks, but for what it has achieved. It is imperfect, but it is incredible. This body grew a baby, and birthed her naturally. For 9 months a little person lived inside me. She grew healthy and strong, and she is absolutely perfect. She's only a year old, so she has no hang ups about her body. I don't know at what age she will start to notice herself or begin to doubt her own beauty. News articles speak of seven year olds going on diets; my friend's three year old is worried that she isn't pretty; I was five when I was called a witch because I had black hair.

For now she is safe, but the older my daughter gets, the less I will be able to shield her. I can keep fashion magazines out of our house, but I won't be able to control what other people say to her. I can tell her every day how beautiful she is, but I can't dictate how other children will treat her.  What I can do is give her the tools to deal with those words and the feelings they will evoke; I can teach her the truth about her body; and I can model good self esteem. I will teach her about the sanctity of life; that all people are to be valued and respected regardless of how they look or what they can and can't do; and that no matter what someone else says, it is how God sees her and how she feels about herself that are paramount. But the most important thing I can do for her is to be constantly affirmative and positive about myself.

Everywhere we look, women are being told what is beautiful, and if we don't live up to the airbrushed images we see, then we fall short of beauty. I do not know a single woman who is happy with the way she looks. We are striving for unattainable perfection, and even when others do not criticise, we are our own worst enemies. Sometimes I have to check myself as I become aware that if I spoke about someone else the way I speak about myself, then I would be the rudest, most unkind and insensitive person I have ever met. As Kate Winslet said in a recent interview, "When I was growing up there wasn't one woman in my environment who I heard saying something positive about her body. Everything I heard was negative, negative, negative." I have made the decision to be different, for if my daughter is to grow up thinking positively of herself and her body, I must model this behaviour myself. I must accept and love the way I look, and talk only well of it. I must be positive for her sake

Through her birth, my perfect daughter has enabled me to accept that I am a perfect creation, and I in turn will help her to grow up knowing that she too is perfect.