Every time I get undressed, I am reminded of my stretch marks.
I hated them because I didn’t have the proper prospective.
Now I do.
They are my lioness marks.
I am a lioness.
I bore four cubs with this human body.
My stomach and breasts stretched to capacity.
Growing and grooming a baby human for nine intense months.
I earned my marks.
I almost died twice during childbirth.
Going to war to bring a world changer forth.
When I look in the mirror and see my marks.
I am reminded of the life that came into this world.
To make a difference!
I am sitting here looking at myself in the mirror.
I am definitely not proud of what I see.
I have gained weight.
I cant fit into my size 6 pants anymore.
I am now in a size 12.
I want to cry.
But what is crying going to do.
I have put on pounds.
Pounds from the depression.
Eating to comfort myself.
Eating unhealthy choices.
Sometimes only eating once a day.
So that what I see is not me.
That is an unhealthy depressed version of me.
I see all the fit people on Instagram.
But even that does not motivate me to get fit.
What is my motivation?
Do I want to keep making the same choices?
And end up with all types of health issues.
Or do I want to fight for my life because it matters.
I choose the latter.