Blog Prompt - Beautiful

from http://www.kludgymom.com/idea-bank/

12. Write about a time you felt beautiful.


When I was pregnant with my son I let myself believe I was unattractive.  I had always found pregnancy beautiful.  I always found pregnant women beautiful.  But there I was, 23 years old and about 8 months pregnant.  I was proud of my round baby belly.  I pulled up my shirt enough to expose the fullness of my abdomen and my crowded womb.  I was just amazed at my body.  It had changed so much and was growing a PERSON.  My estranged partner looked up wrinkled up his nose.  He was disgusted.  "Cover that up."  My heart sank.

This is one experience that stuck with me.  I only bring this up because of the contrast I felt later.  I let him take that joy away from me.  Honoring the beauty of my round, stretchmarked belly.  Full of life and love.  The embodiment of "mother".  Little did I know it was likely my single one shot at this feeling.  I still kick my ass about it.

Fast forward to the following fall.  I had just turned 24.  I had a little boy who could just sit up on his own.  He was still exclusively breastfed.  His adorable, healthy baby rolls were the doing of my large, pendulous breasts.  Between pregnancy and breastfeeding I had lost a great deal of my excess weight and was only slightly over the magical "ideal" weight.

I was at my boyfriends house.  He was the first guy I dated after my son's father. He was a nice enough guy, funny and smart but I knew by his cynicism and love of holding onto the past that it wasn't the end all in relationships.  It was all about the sex.  He wasn't the perfect physical specimen but he was confident and just aggressive enough for me (good boundaries and respect towards me, but the perfect amount of bossy and take charge).

This particular night he was in the kitchen puttering around.  I loved that he loved to cook.  I had never been in a relationship where I didn't do the cooking.  I just got up off the pull out couch after a fabulous foray into naughtiness and saw my own reflection in the glass of the fireplace.  There I was.  Naked.  Unapologetic.  There were my large, heavy breasts, filled with milk.  My body was fairly slender for me. I still had a bit of loose skin in the front still recovering from growing my baby.  But to me it was not unattractive.  It looked soft.  My waist was small.  My hips wide. I had just demonstrated my sexual prowess.  I felt like a fucking goddess.  Despite my lover being clothed I refused to cover my nakedness.  This he appreciated.  So did I.  I had never felt so confident.  I smiled.