You ever get that light-bulb moment? That moment where it seems like everything falls perfectly into place to reveal that, yes, you are in fact a massive psycho.

I had one of those moments last week; I picked up my poor husband from the train station so that I could take him to his Doctor’s appointment. After parking I went into the practice and asked which room he was in  and walked in, to my husband chatting to the Doctor. His FEMALE Doctor. His young, definitely not over the age of 30, definitely could be a Doctor on Grey’s Anatomy, definitely Skinny and Stylish Doctor. As soon as I walked in I remember thinking, obviously I’m gonna have to duel this b***ch. Closely followed by, obviously hubby planned everything perfectly so that; he could be sick, go to this random GP because our usual one was too busy and be called by her even though he had no idea she existed. At this point you’re probably thinking this is where I had my light-bulb, I’m a psycho moment, but no guys apparently I still had a long way to fall.

After the appointment, we got in the car and instantly I find myself asking Dave if he found this Doctor attractive. He said no. LIAR. He obviously did, she was a young, female DOCTOR; his exact response was No Dara, I don’t.  LIAR. At this point Dave was confused about why I was now crying and telling him there’s no way he didn’t find her attractive even though that’s what he was explicitly telling me. What I said after, I think took us both aback; through tears I told him there was no way he didn’t find her attractive because clearly she was skinnier than I was (this probably would have sunk in deeper had I not added that I was fat cause I gave birth to HIS baby- but let’s be real I’ve being fat since long before then). ALAS people there was my perfect ‘I’m a psycho moment.’

Aside from the sad look in my husband’s eyes as he told me that my perception of ‘attractiveness’ of the Doctor was actually more of a reflection of my current insecurities and that I was perfectly perfect as I was, I realised he was right and I probably hadn’t realised how deep it ran until then. A friend of mine told me recently that she had to get her daughter a doll and cut the doll’s hair before giving it to her because her THREE year old daughter was crying about how she wants long ‘beautiful’ hair. From a young age we as women are saturated by the media, the people around us about what is classified as beautiful; White, thin, blonde. Unfortunately for me I am Black, fat and my hair is from some Peruvian lady, so I nearly almost never had a chance; but I think, or at least I thought, I had worked through that and was suddenly cured of the ‘I hate myself’ syndrome all women develop at some point in their life.

Being pregnant and getting to carry my beautiful baby boy is an experience I would never trade for anything in the world; but I’m also not going to lie. I cried when I got my first stretch mark on my stomach- the quote about them being my Tiger Stripes ran through my mind and I wanted to punch myself in the face for even thinking it. The birth of my son and the realisation that truly my body was different, and, was probably going to stay close to that way for the foreseeable to future seemed to all come to a head when I saw that Doctor. I wasn’t necessarily jealous of her, nor did I believe that my Husband had some special affinity for this random Woman he probably won’t see again, because she’s not our Doctor (Dave, if you’re reading this). I just simply have insecurities- We all do. The difference however is, what I do with those insecurities; do I let them motivate me to make changes in my life ( be it losing weight or actively working on accepting and loving myself) OR do I let them cripple me and destroy my life?

It’s almost so much easier to just accept that ‘I am Woman hear me….complain about how big my thighs are, how flabby my arms are, how untoned my tummy is’ and if I’m honest with you I’m still fighting the battle between what the world says I am and what I know I am. I wish I could finish this blog by telling you how I’ve found myself and realised that the media or the World out there has no bearing on my self-perception, but then I’d be lying. What I can say though is that some days I win. Some days my reality is, that I am beautifully and fearfully made.

Dara

XOx