The Adventure of Strength: How I Stopped Throwing My Body Away After Motherhood
Throwing myself away
Before I decided to have kids, I already knew my life — and my body — would never be the same. I literally threw away most of my clothes. I mourned my present self, even as I made space for who I was becoming.
I was blessed with two large (especially for my stature) boys. I’m rather short and narrow. Our first really messed up my body -- I mean, my body also created life. It’s a great body. I am still working through a pretty intense diastasis recti.
When they were born, I did light activities. We hiked, swam, played beach tennis, pickle ball, etc. I even tried playing soccer a couple times. I enjoy being active.
At some point, I thought I’d try running. Then, my leg went numb. It was within a safe time frame from my second’s birth and I was alarmed. I called my doctor, she said that it was normal. My c-section scar was puckering. I was nervous. She said it was normal. I was watching myself — not living in myself …not truly living. As the Kites warn, ‘Self-objectification occurs when people learn to view their own bodies from an outside perspective…’ I was trapped in that split.
I did the same thing that I did with my clothes when I got pregnant. I (metaphorically, of course) threw my body out, figuring I’d never fit in it again.
Fit
When I say fit, I don’t mean inches or weight loss. I mean belonging — in my own body. I didn’t think, when I got pregnant that I would literally fit comfortably in my clothes, but as I faced recovery from my two c-sections, I thought the same principle applied to my body.
As I’m writing this, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself. I had incredible friends invite me to play soccer, hike, etc. I took them up on it. I went through the motions.
If you’re here for a quick fix or to lose weight or grow glutes, this isn’t that kind of post. It’s a harrowing tale of self acceptance -- one that is ongoing. This journey isn’t about looking “better.” As the Kites put it, “Positive body image isn’t believing your body looks good; it is knowing your body is good, regardless of how it looks.” That’s the shift I’m trying to make.
“When I feel disconnected from my body, I don't take care of it. When I embrace my body, when I appreciate what it does for me, I do. Learning not to hate our bodies isn't a matter of feeling good … it’s a matter of our physical health and emotional survival.” (Bacon, 2020) I threw my body away … but as Bacon says, “When I feel disconnected from my body, I don’t take care of it. When I embrace my body … I do.” That resonated hard with me — I was neglecting the vessel that had carried life.
I recently was given this amazing opportunity, but in order to go through with it, I had to pass a pretty rigorous physical test. So, I started training. It felt impossible. People literally told me that it was impossible.
Spoiler alert: I failed my first trial. But I don’t believe them anymore. I think it is possible.
Living in Survival Mode
Most days I feel like I start at 100 mph -- high speed. It’s like this intense chess set where I have to see three steps ahead and plan for potential disasters. Are H’s school clothes laid out -- what if he hates the socks? Are there clean ones in his drawers? How do I get E entertained while I get H ready. What if he is needy? Does he have a safe space? His comfort object is clean, right?
Even as I am dodging the metaphorical bombs and planning for all potentials, I try to remember that this is society. Society says that women, moms, have to do it all. They place this strange invisible load on women. One where, if my kids don’t wear shoes to the store, I get comments, but my husband is lauded for caring for his kids.
When I forget to bring a third pair of shorts to church anticipating one accident instead of two, I get the judgmental nod. The one that says, “Oh, haven’t figured out potty training.” While, Al gets pats on the back and, “He’s doing great.”
Indeed, one qualitative study identified barriers as gender-centric, yet likewise found that empowerment and enjoyment are tightly linked — beyond just physical health (Streetman et al, 2023).
Save the Drama for Your Mama
It’s just… Arg! On top of all this, the weight of society, the load of invisible work, and the struggle to be the mom my sweet nuggets deserve, I feel like I’ve been shrinking, disappearing. It’s something that since hearing a slam poet on youtube in a college seminar once, I swore I wouldn’t do it. Yet, here I am. Fading. Throwing myself away.
Also, I know that this is potentially a little dramatic. I am dramatic. It happens. When I get frustrated, I tell my kids. We harumph or yell “ahh,” and, probably because I am dramatic, it helps.
I remember this one kid asked me on a date when I was a middle school teacher. I was venting about a particularly tricky day. He turned to me and said something along the lines of “my sister is an elementary school teacher and she decided when she started she wasn’t going to yell and she just never has.”
Yeah, talk about a condescending asshole. He was really a nice guy, just not his finer moments. He is also not Al. That was our only date.
That sweet, demure, awe-inspiring teacher? That’s not me. I yell. I yell and then I feel guilty for days. I sometimes laugh too loudly. Maybe it is the big family thing. I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the middle child thing. Could be. Regardless, here I am.
I was doing alright in survival mode. We were going on fun trips. I was teaching my boys bilingually (at least trying). We were planting gardens, going on nature walks, snorkeling, living the dream.
Then, our security vanished when Al’s boss abruptly, with less than two months of notice, delivered the ultimatum: move or you lose your job.
We stayed. This is our home. Of course we stayed. In order to stay, we gave up financial security. The minefield I was dancing on daily seemed to become more vast and my feet began to feel more heavy
Thus, this opportunity. The training. The reclaiming of the body that I threw away and wrote off. Thus began my “fitness adventure.”
Adventure as Resistance
For women — especially mothers — choosing strength over shrinking isn’t just personal. It pushes back against a culture that tells us to take up less space.
This adventure isn’t about looking nice or losing weight, it is about survival and stability. I’ll tell you what, that extra emotional baggage really hurts when you are too exhausted from daily activities to run and work out -- not to mention your husband is Ubering and you can’t leave your sweet, sleeping boys.
But I did it. It was weird. As I continued to sprint (next to my house, checking the baby monitor), runs suddenly were about much more than just reaching a particular time. Every push-up, every sprint became less about passing a test and more about remembering what I am capable of.
As I worked through my fitness regimen (thanks ChatGPT), fitness became an exploration of myself, my strengths and where I had room to grow. It became this scary and lovely evaluation and appreciation of where I am now -- creaky knees and all.
Reclaiming Strength
I trained (am training) for a short distance run, sprints, and to test my arm and core strength. It was brutal. Though, I didn’t realize how strong my arms had gotten. I guess having two big old mama’s boys really keeps those biceps and triceps working. Motherhood, it’s like strength training for life, not just for fitness.
The toughest area to train was my core. As I mentioned, my abdominal muscles are still very separated from my first baby born in 2021. I haven’t been caring for myself as I should. Those first exercises were hard.
So, I started coupling workout with recovery yoga.
Then came the logistical mess that is running. With side hustles going on always, it’s honestly hard for either Al or I to get a second to ourselves when the kids aren’t asleep. These days, when the kids are sleeping, Al is working. I can’t leave. Admittedly, this is still a logistical nightmare.
But also, when I first started running, my third run also came with some pretty intense knee pain. After talking to my fit friends, runners, I decided to add some IT band stretches, strength training, and splurge on some Brooks running shoes (feel free to sponsor me, they’re great). It was a slow and frustrating recovery, but it worked.
Suddenly, I can do up to 45 sit-ups in a minute and my diastasis recti gap seems a little smaller. My pushup form is flawless and 20 doesn’t even feel like a chore. If you give me a pull up bar, I can grab it and give you a few. When H asks me to race, I’ll take it easy on him.
Interestingly enough, one study found that women ranked resistance training as the most empowering form of exercise (38%) — more so even than running (Streetman et al, 2023).
That doesn’t take back how hard it has been. I know that it is this crazy metaphor for life. Sometimes, I wish that life didn’t feel as survival-mode-y as it does. Lately, I feel like I’m getting through it by reminding myself that it is temporary.
There is progress, often setbacks, weird emotional baggage, but this experience has shown me how to listen and advocate for myself again. It has given me this sense of value that I have been missing for a while.
I got lost in motherhood. It is a great, magical place to get lost. I’m so grateful to get lost there sometimes. BUT I think I got so lost that I forgot my needs are important too.
The Bigger Picture
This is not a “bounce back” post. This is a grow through kinda post.
I don’t mean grow through fat loss, or muscle gains, or what the hell other crap the media feeds us. I mean, grow some recognition that YOU deserve to be taken care of. Your body needs it just as much as your sweet little ones.
Exercising became this act of reclaiming strength and reclaiming strength as an act of resistance. It became this strong metaphor for claiming my space and not disappearing into motherhood. Because as the Kites point out, “These out-of-reach body image mirages … become a major barrier to fitness.” If we chase ideals, we lose connection with enjoyment, embodiment, and what our bodies can do now.
Conclusion
Why I wrote this post isn’t as a rant against the patriarchy (I can do one of those, though). It isn't simple tricks to lose those inches. It’s just me showing up for myself in a time when I wasn’t.
It is this quote: “Positive body image isn’t believing your body looks good; it is knowing your body is good, regardless of how it looks” (Kite & Kite, 2020)
I didn’t need a gym or a trainer. Just me. Unlike me, you don’t need some physical test to train for. Your adventure, your reclamation can begin right now. You don’t need a fancy test to train for — you can find your own “impossible thing.” Adventure can be in the gym, on the trail, or in your living room.
I -- we -- are NOT training to be smaller. We train to take up space, to be strong, and to lead our families into adventure.
Sources
Bacon, L. (2020). Radical belonging: How to survive and thrive in an unjust world (while transforming it for the better). BenBella Books.
Brown, B. (2010–2021). [Any of her works you cite, e.g., The gifts of imperfection (2010), Daring greatly (2012), Braving the wilderness (2017), Atlas of the heart (2021)]. Random House.
Chowdhury, S. (2018, January 17). A gender gap at the gym is keeping women from working out. Glamour.
https://www.glamour.com/story/a-gender-gap-at-the-gym-is-keeping-women-from-working-out
Green, F. J. (2024). Feminist mothering: Challenging gender inequality by embracing conscious mothering as a form of social activism. Socialist Studies, 20(1), 1–18. https://socialiststudies.com
Kite, L., & Kite, L. (2020). More than a body: Your body is an instrument, not an ornament. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Royal, B. A. (2014). Postpartum exercise. ACSM’s Health & Fitness Journal, 18(4), 47–49. https://doi.org/10.1249/FIT.0000000000000058
Sauter, A., Klamroth, S., Hepp, P., Feißt, M., & Zwingmann, C. (2022). Increased empowerment through physical activity in postpartum women. Frontiers in Psychology, 13, 896321. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2022.896321
Streetman, A. E., Lister, M. M., Brown, A., Brin, H. N., & Heinrich, K. M. (2025). A mixed-methods study of women’s empowerment through physical activities: Relationships with self-efficacy and physical activity levels. Functional Morphology and Kinesiology, 10(2), 45. https://doi.org/10.3390/fmk10020045
