I realized something key this weekend. It was another one of my silent, all in my head, sort of revelations, but I looked over at my husband and thought “Poor guy.” It was nothing he did, but entirely related to me and how I feel about myself. He thinks I am beautiful, yet I tear myself a part regularly. I am not kind to myself, not in the least. I give myself grace when it comes to mothering, but I don’t give myself a single ounce when it comes to my physical appearance. I have short lived moments of “Katie, you lost weight, good job,” but that is immediately followed by a list of things that I don’t like about myself. I stare into the mirror and ridicule all of the parts, and it doesn’t matter what sort of progress I make, I still manage to strip my confidence down to nothing. It is terrible. Yesterday, Bryant told me that I looked fit. I laughed in his face. Poor guy, is right. I would be entirely annoyed if I lived with someone who was constantly ripping themselves a part. I am lucky that Bryant is built like a string bean, because I am sure if he was not, I would not be so kind and patient if he expressed his unhappiness with his appearance. I love myself, but I don’t show it the love that it deserves. The truth is: I can’t remember a single time that I was actually 100% happy with my body since my wedding day. That said, our 4 year wedding anniversary is next Friday. It has been 4 years since I felt like physically I was at a place that I wanted to be. Yikes. Pre-pregnancy, I definitely was not in the shape that I had imagined myself being in before I birthed an infant. I am 5 months post partum, and while I’m not still lugging around the weight of my pregnancy, it is time to stop being such a jerk to myself and actually move my ass. I run because I like it, and I only do the quota that I want to do, because I never want to stop loving it. That isn’t going to get me anywhere. I can run 3 miles, no big deal, but you won’t see me pushing past the 3 mile mark in a single sitting. Nope. Because that would mean that it would hurt. I am very good at tricking myself into thinking that I am doing something about the weak muscles.

So in this vulnerability, I will say this: I am trying to learn to show myself the love that it deserves. I think a huge part of that is feeding it the food that makes it feel good. That means, exercising it in the ways that it needs. Caring for it in the way that I should.

I read this article that made a lot of obvious sense, but it said “Parents who demonstrate self-control, self confidence, and self-discipline…their kid’s will naturally mimic it.” It is amazing how having a little baby can change the way you do life. I want Kinsey to see how much I love myself. I want her to see me practicing self-control and self-discipline. I want her to never struggle with body image or confidence.

So, it starts. I am starting p90x. I have done it before, so this is a round 2. I am expecting it to be harder this time, what with the birthing of an infant 5 months ago and all. But, I am excited. Kinsey will get to see her Mama working out, and as time goes on, that will become more and more important to her own health. I am nervous and already worried that I will quit. But maybe that is a good thing. Maybe that means that I will be able to stick it out longer.

August seems to be the month for a lot of friends/tweeps. Lots of health goals/budget goals/diets are starting. Let’s support each other! Make August a successful one, yeah?!