Are you speaking to your body the way you would speak to your best friend?

As women, we are often so hard on ourselves. Our internal dialogue is sometimes not very kind. So, is it time we start speaking to our bodies the same way we speak to our best friends?

I stood in the shower, looking down in disgust at my size 16 body. My stomach is protruding. My loose skin covering my “Miss Dee” tattoo I had done when I was 18, drunk and carefree. I think “Fuck. My body is so gross. How did I let myself get so fat?”

My breasts that were once perky and firm, now droopy from breastfeeding 3 children, with tiny dark hairs sprouting. I scrunch up my face “Ew. Yuck. I have to pluck those”

Then I remembered I am wearing a short sleeved top today, I glance at my underarms. Hairy. “Gross!!” I think to myself as I reach for my razor.

I start cleansing my face. I have broken out in pimples lately and I think “my skin is so foul now. I used to have such beautiful skin” as I started scrubbing with my exfoliator.

Just at that moment of self hating, with my face under the water, my husband comes into the bathroom. I can feel his eyes on me. I am disgusted by what he is looking at. Me. He says to me “Hey beautiful!” and i yell at him “Shut the fucking door and get out!!”

My husband slinks away with his head down.

Suddenly my internal self hatred turns into outward aggression to someone who genuinely loves me for who I am.

Why do we do this to ourselves? If I heard my daughter speaking to herself the way that I was speaking to myself at the moment, I would cry for her. Why would such harsh words from our daughters be so completely unacceptable? Yet we allow ourselves to speak to ourselves in such a hurtful way?

Our internal self hatred turns into outward aggression towards others who love us. So why can’t we stop it?

"Suddenly my internal self hatred turns into outward aggression to someone who genuinely

loves me for who I am"

My body has done so much for me. It has carried me through years of drug addiction. Miscarriages. Abortions. Seriously traumatic events. 2 completed pregnancies, including my massive twins. A total of 3 years of breastfeeding. 2 major brain/abdominal surgeries. Multiple endometrial surgeries. Broken limbs. Torn ligaments. Eye surgeries. A stroke that left me with significant vision loss. And it continues to serve me until complete exhaustion each and every day.

If my body was a person, she’d be my fucking best friend. Because she’s awesome.

Mums, our bodies are what allows us to be the motherfucking warriors we are. So be kind to her.

What is your internal dialogue? Do you have complete self love or are you too hard on yourself the way that too many of us often are? I'd love to hear from you.

Love you all, Dee