Today, I get to be over at Kindred Mom, sharing about self-care! Here’s a little taste…


“FINE,” I said, with malice stored up for years, “I guess I don’t completely hate you. Today.”

I kicked the scale back to its place. It remains unclear whether the words were to the scale or my body. The numbers had shown a pound or two lower than I’d seen in a long while. I hit and passed this number on the way up as I was cooking the littlest baby. She’s now a toddler, so it seems I’d be glad to finally see this progress.

It wasn’t enough.

I’ve fought with my body for my entire life. I’ve hated it for most of that. In the last few years, I thought we’d come to an understanding, my body and I. I would no longer punish her with exercise and restrictive eating- they’ve never been effective for me anyway. Instead, I’d be kind. I’d move her in ways that felt good, feed her nourishing food. She would keep schlepping me around, and I’d stop glaring at her.

I had hoped this kindness (or what passed for it, anyway) was something I could hold onto, that I could cross this line away from the self-hatred and abuse and never step backwards over it. Sure, some days I’d be unhappy with my shape- I’d love to feel good in my skin and my clothing, but surely I would never go back to the misery of hating this body and punishing it for my insecurities.

Yet here I was, in my underwear in the bathroom, kicking the scale and cursing my body after (what should be) a victory… (read more)


If you want to read the rest of the article, click here. Thanks for stopping by! If you check out Kindred Mom, poke around a bit. If it resonates with you (like it resonates with me), you might consider joining the facebook community.

Published by robininalaska

Robin Chapman is a part-time writer, editor, and birth photographer and a full-time imperfect mama, wife, Jesus follower, and normalizer of failure. She’s trying hard to learn how to do this motherhood thing in a way that doesn’t land the whole family in intensive therapy. She has a heart for helping other mamas buried in the little years with hope, humor, and solidarity. You can find her hiding out in the bathroom with an iced dirty chai, writing and editing and making spreadsheets for KindredMom.com where she is a cheerleader for mamas, or online looking for grace in her mundane and weird life. She lives in Fairbanks, Alaska with her four delightful (crazy) kids—some homeschooled, some public schooled, some too young for school at all—and her ridiculously good looking husband, Andrew.

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