Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

My Body is Ugly and Perfect

My son and I walk past shop windows and I catch an accidental glimpse of myself. Bad posture, bra straps showing my backfat (there ain’t no sucking in backfat), a too-big belly, too-large breasts and too many wrinkles on my face. Sigh. My Body is Ugly and Perfect.

I refrain from flipping my ugly body off in the window when I realize there are people on the other side.

My Body is Ugly and Perfect

My son grabs my hand in the way he does, where we hold hands the regular way except my index finger is interlocked with his pinkie.

I look at our hands.

I look at him.

I feel this body, both ugly and perfect.

My too-large breasts (that weren’t always so large) fed him when he was almost failure-to-thrive.

These legs of mine have carried me down mountains. They’ve propelled me from the bottom of the ocean, or at least as far as my scuba gear allowed me to descend.

This too-large belly gave birth to my favorite person in the world.

Secrets and worries are shared with me as my not-so-little little boy and I walk to the bus stop to kiss and wave goodbye each weekday. Some days, we drive. My body can do both still.

It’s the one my son wants to cuddle at 3am after a bad dream.

My body is flawed. Ugly.

“I wish I had the perfect body,” I think. “But you do,” something within me says. “Perfect enough, anyway.”

This body of mine is illness-free. My body is perfect. Healthy.

It is with this body that I’ve lived. Loved. Lost.

It’s stooped and floppy and has been mine since I became me.

This body made me a mom.

My Body is Ugly and Perfect

This body is mine as I see myself with all of my wrinkles and floppiness in the window, for I have sight.

My body listening to 80’s music with my son, for I still have hearing. “Bohemian Rhapsody,” he calls from the back seat after just a few notes. My face smiles, pleased for simple perfect moments.

We walk to the park, for I still have mobility.

My body wakes to a crying eight-year-old at 3:00 a.m. for I have compassion.

My body is here, doing homework, for I retain basic math skills.

I think about this life, for I still have memory.

My Body is Ugly and Perfect.

It thinks about tomorrow, and the ones to come, because I still have hope.

My body gave birth to a boy so he could dance in the sea at twilight.

My Body is Ugly and Perfect

Wrinkles, jeans in a drawer that may never fit again, and nights when I wonder whether I made the most of my youth are only thoughts.

Making the most of now, and tomorrow, with this boy, is happening because of this (hopefully) only half-way used up body of mine.

My body was here for my birth. It was ugly and perfect.

My body will be here for my death. It will be ugly and perfect.

My body is mine.

my body is ugly and perfect

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post in its new format. This week is a 5-minute stream-of-consciousness post using the prompt “When it comes to this body…” Link up here or with my (still-pretty-new and always-awesome) co-host Kenya at Sporadically Yours.

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  • Kenya G. Johnson - I love the beautiful way you wrote what your body is for, some only a mother can do. I got at 1am text this week and it’s been a long long long time since he’s done that. I wouldn’t have normally heard it but I still had on my apple watch so it buzzed in my ear and read “Come her please”, of course I jumped up and feel like I just appeared in his room. He’d had a bad dream. And I think with this body and mom powers I would have heard that he needed me even if it didn’t buzz in my ear. ❤️❤️❤️February 16, 2018 – 11:31 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thank you! And too sweet that you got a text saying “come here please,” and I bet anything that even if your watch didn’t buzz in your ear, you’d have known. Tucker still hollers “MOM!!!” or “MOMMY!” (depending on how scared he is). It makes me happy that Christopher still wants you when he has a bad dream. Maybe I have a few more years of that left. <3<3<3February 16, 2018 – 8:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Great Kristi. Tricky subject matter. I have a lot to say on it, never ending, so I will go to work on my own post.

    I love what mothers say about what their bodies have done, but sometimes I put myself down by saying I have nothing so great as a human life to give credit to such a thing. Then I feel badly, but that’s just life. I see it all around me. I see my own amazing body achievements and I try to focus on those.

    Love how you almost did and then you realized other people were on the inside of that window, not just you and your reflection. Haha.February 16, 2018 – 1:08 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m glad you’re going to write about it Kerry. I look forward to reading. And you know… I didn’t have Tucker until I was 40 and remember feeling as you described, especially after I had a miscarriage (and then a divorce) and wondered whether my life was worth the same. But it was. It is. Yours is and you have SO MUCH time. Look at how much amazing life you’ve already lived. LOL to not flipping the people off by accident! Glad I thought about it! 🙂February 16, 2018 – 8:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - Mine too.. is ugly and perfect and all mine. It’s funny to me that sometimes I think it’s wonderful and other times hideous. What’s changing. A few pounds of water weight can’t be that drastic. The problem is ME – but only my mind, and not my body.February 16, 2018 – 4:50 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Here’s to loving our bodies no matter what. What are a few pounds? Looking back, all of my past bodies were just fine. This one is fine, too. I need to get over myself. Love to our bodies!February 16, 2018 – 8:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Pat B - Shop windows often reflect what we don’t want to see, but perhaps it is just the nudge we need to stand a little straighter. Unfortunately doing away with a few extra pounds isn’t so quickly remedied.
    Compassion pulls out of us the motivation and energy needed when we thought it was all spent.
    To still have mobility, good health, and memory are all things to celebrate.
    I love that photo of the boy dancing in the sea at twilight. Beautiful, as is the description.
    Seeing photos of hands of all sizes and ages is something so awesome.
    Thanks, once again for these writing challenges you and Kenya provide for us.February 16, 2018 – 9:03 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Here’s to mobility, health, and memory. I think I’d rather have my body fail than my mind… Thanks – that photo is one of my favorites ever. It’s Tucker and his two cousins this October in Florida right as the sun was setting. There’s another I took of a huge flock of birds chasing a school of fish. I keep meaning to get it printed and framed. Thanks, once again, for taking part of the FTSF writing challenges!February 18, 2018 – 8:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Jamie Miles - agree. None of us are perfect but you are beautiful— maybe not just as fixed up that day. My dear sister, beautiful inside and out for 51 years, always in perfect shape and weight, is battling cancer for the second time. A healthy body physically, emotionally and spiritually is a gift that money can’t buy.February 17, 2018 – 8:29 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m so sorry to read about your sister, Jamie. Cancer has a way of stealing our bodies from us. I hope she kicks its butt for this second time. Hugs and healing prayers to her.February 18, 2018 – 8:17 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Perfectly said…sometimes we need perspective (ie, reality check) about how we see ourselves and not how we hope to see ourselves — thank you for providing that.February 17, 2018 – 7:15 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Emily. I need that every day, all day. Sigh. It was easier younger, although I wasn’t very nice to myself then either!February 18, 2018 – 8:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - You have the BEST words. (Really, really, yours are the BEST words!) Love and hugs to you!February 17, 2018 – 11:48 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You’re SO SO nice. Thank you thank you thank you. Love and hugs to you! Any news on a book tour in DC??February 18, 2018 – 8:26 pmReplyCancel

      • Linda Atwell - Not looking good for a tour on the east coast. 🙁 But I so appreciate you asking…and even wanting that for me!February 20, 2018 – 11:39 pmReplyCancel

        • Kristi Campbell - But of COURSE I want that for you. And I want it to happen… sorry it’s not looking good. Keep me tuned into which tours will happen outside of Oregon? I’m in Colorado a couple times/year…February 21, 2018 – 7:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Debi - One of the things I work hard at remembering is that bodies that are bigger/softer/older are beautiful and perfect and important whether or not they have made and raised children. A friend of mine who adopted her two beautiful children and who is plus-sized often rails at this sort of thinking, that she can only love her above-average-sized body if it made babies. Bodies are amazing and beautiful for all kinds of reasons, yours included!February 18, 2018 – 1:57 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I have a tendency to forget, but when I speak with somebody who’s in their 70’s and they say “you’re so young,” I get a new perspective and realize that I say that to people in their early 30’s when they’re thinking college graduates are so young…etc. Same goes for old though, sadly! But yeah, all of us are beautiful and perfect (and ugly). Thanks Debi!February 18, 2018 – 8:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @TehGoldenSpoons - Ugh! I wrote this post in my head, but didn’t type it out. Couldn’t type it out. I have pretty much nothing nice to say about my body. I try to put a positive spin on it, but I usually fail. It gave me my three girls, though, and I am certainly grateful for that!February 18, 2018 – 2:18 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s so hard, right? Ugh. I was thinking you might link up your old post you’d written about body image – it was a good one (feel free to link it up). I know what you mean about usually failing to put a positive spin, but so much of that’s in your head. I saw that vibrant photo of you teaching preschool at church and you looked gorgeous!February 18, 2018 – 8:29 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - There is NOTHING, my darling, Absolutely nothing…
    ugly about you.

    Appreciation & Love from MN. xxxxFebruary 19, 2018 – 2:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Yes to all of this. I started to write, and then didn’t feel like it. I found an old post and didn’t like my writing style, so I bagged it. But I’m glad YOU wrote – I have similar feelings about my ugly and perfect body.February 19, 2018 – 8:55 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Ugh to ugly and perfect bodies. Speaking of them, we should feed ours together, soon. Yes?February 20, 2018 – 11:20 pmReplyCancel

      • Dana - Yes! I drove by our usual place last week and it made me miss you.February 23, 2018 – 10:46 amReplyCancel

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