From shame to self-love

 I have struggled with my body image for most of my life.

In high school, I wasn't overweight, even though I believed I was. I was simply bigger than many of the girls around me. My friends could share clothes with each other, but my hips, thighs, and butt were too big to fit into the same sizes. Today people might call that "thick," but back then being thin was what was considered beautiful, and I constantly felt like I didn't measure up.

As I got older and had children, I gained a significant amount of weight. That was when my relationship with my body became even more difficult. I avoided mirrors. I hated seeing myself naked. I bought clothes that hid my stomach and arms because I was embarrassed by how I looked.

Eventually, I decided to have gastric sleeve surgery. I wanted to lose weight, improve my health, and be a better example for my children. My mom's side of the family has always struggled with weight, and I didn't want that future for myself.

I lost 90 pounds.

While I felt better about myself, I was left with loose skin around my stomach, sagging skin on my arms, and thighs that I still felt self-conscious about. I didn't hate my body as much as before, but I still wasn't comfortable in my own skin.

Later, I had a tummy tuck to remove the excess skin. For the first time, I truly started feeling better about myself. I could wear clothes I had never felt comfortable wearing before. I no longer felt like I had to hide behind oversized shirts or carefully chosen outfits.

Then I lost another 30 pounds before my wedding.

Today, my waist is the smallest it has ever been. I have hip bones I never knew existed. Sometimes I stand in front of the mirror and just stare because I still can't believe what I see. After spending so many years feeling disgusted by my body, I now have a flat stomach. I don't have love handles. I don't have a stomach hanging over my waistband. For the first time in my life, I feel proud of myself.

I'm proud of the sacrifices I made. I'm proud of the lifestyle changes I committed to. I'm proud that I've maintained those changes all these years.

My mom, aunt, and uncle all had gastric surgery after I did. They each lost weight, but eventually gained it back. I didn't. I stayed committed, and that's something I am incredibly proud of.

Throughout all of this, my husband has never criticized my body. He has always told me that he loves me regardless of what I look like. I know that comes from a place of love, and I appreciate it.

But if I'm being honest, there is still a part of me that wishes he noticed the changes more.

I hear comments from friends who notice my weight loss and how different I look. My husband sees me every day. He sees me dressed up. He sees me naked. He sees the reality of the transformation, yet he rarely says anything about it.

And sometimes that hurts.

I want to feel desired by him. I want to feel beautiful in his eyes. I want him to look at me when we're out together and think, "I'm so lucky she's my wife." I want him to notice when I put effort into my appearance. I want him to compliment my outfits. I want him to admire the hard work I've put into becoming healthier and more confident.

For most of my life, I have been embarrassed by my appearance. Now that I am finally beginning to like what I see, I want the person I love most to see it too.

I still have insecurities. I still struggle with my thighs and arms. I will probably always find flaws in myself. But learning to accept my body and appreciate how far I've come has been one of the greatest gifts I've ever given myself.

What makes this difficult is that my husband and I view our bodies differently.

When we first got together, he had a six-pack and took pride in showing it off. Over the years, he has gained some weight and developed a small belly. I still find him attractive. As long as he feels good about himself, that's what matters to me.

But I've never felt that way about my own body.

I cared when I was a little girl. I cared when I was overweight. I care now.

Part of that comes from growing up watching my mom struggle with her weight. She was often the biggest mom at school events and family gatherings, and I remember not wanting that for myself. I wanted to be healthy. I wanted my children to be proud of me. I wanted to feel confident standing next to my husband. I didn't want to be the person hiding in the back of photos because I was ashamed of how I looked.

Now I finally have that confidence.

I just wish my husband saw it the way I do.

I wish he appreciated my body more openly. I wish he expressed his attraction more often. I wish he noticed the effort, discipline, and sacrifices that went into creating a body I never thought I could have.

There was a time when I could literally grab handfuls of loose skin and fat from my stomach. I hated it. I felt disgusted by it. My husband never complained and never made me feel bad about it. He supported my decision to get a tummy tuck, and I will always be grateful for that.

But part of me believed that after the surgery, after the weight loss, after all the changes, he would look at me differently. I thought he would be unable to keep his hands off me.

We have a great sex life, and I know he loves me. Yet I still feel like something is missing.

I rarely hear that I'm beautiful. I rarely hear that I look amazing. I rarely hear compliments about my outfits or appearance.

I just want my husband to notice me.

Sometimes I wear clothes that show a little bit of my stomach because I'm proud of what I've accomplished. It's not about seeking attention from other people. It's about finally feeling comfortable in my own skin after years of hiding it.

When my husband says that I just want attention, it hurts because that's not what this is about.

This isn't about other people looking at me.

It's about finally loving a body that I spent most of my life hating.

It's about being proud of myself.

And wanting the man I love most to see that pride, appreciate the journey, and celebrate it with me.