This might sound really weird but I love my stretch marks. What’s even weirder is when I was younger they disgusted me so much I used to cry over them, daily. But after years and years of weight gain/loss, having two children, and general wear and tear they really don’t bother me in the slightest. I’m not sure if the fact that I’m very over weight and jiggly means I have bigger fish to fry than stretch marks but I actually think they’re kinda cool.
They’re like silvery little tattoos that remind me of things, like the ones on my boobs I got when I was pregnant which child number one, it makes me think about how chuffed I was to have bigger boobs and how I breastfed our child, which is not something I had intended on doing it just happened, and it was so special and unexpected. The big deep ones around my belly button were from the same pregnancy and remind me of her growing bigger inside me until I looked like I was going to pop!
The smaller stretch marks that are around the big ones were from child number two, I was getting more and more over weight and this baby was massive so the stretch marks rippled all over. But I really didn’t care, I loved being pregnant and having a big baby belly.
The stretch marks on my hips remind me of being a teenager and getting my curves. They remind me of how far I’ve come excepting myself and how I love myself so much more now. Even though I’m older and fatter and less attractive to the rest of the world, inside I’m stunning. And that’s all that matters.
The Secret Blog of a 30 Year Old
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