MIA: "What I did for my friend who feels bad about her tummy."

My friend is feeling bad about her stomach. Well, her tummy. She’s had three kids in the past four years and she’s in that place where she’s not really sure what her body is meant to look like or how she’s meant to feel about it.

“I’m not sure if it’s baby weight that will eventually go or whether this is just what my body looks like now and I have to get used to it” she told me a couple of days ago after complimenting a pair of pants I was wearing and demurring after I suggested she get some. “Oh no, I couldn’t wear those,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “Not anymore.”

It’s not that she’s desperately unhappy about this exactly.  She’s 30 years old with a great job, an excellent husband and kids she adores. Her life is good and she’s certainly not tortured about the way she looks.

She’s just kind of reflective and slightly confused about how to dress now and what the future holds for her body, her weight and her wardrobe.

She’d seen a post on Mamamia called “How to wear a crop top when you’re over the age of 12″  and coincidentally, had noticed this one she really liked in Witchery last week:

I’d seen the same top and had that wistful feeling that you have when you see something really lovely that you know will never be yours. Like sleeping triplets. Or Jennifer Hawkins’ shoe cupboard. Or George Clooney.

“I will never be able to wear anything like that again,” she said matter-of-factly. “Even though it’s not like I was a crop top girl before I had kids. Still, I’m just….” and she lifted up her top and showed me her stomach which looked perfectly respectful and lovely and kind of soft and a bit roll-y like most female stomachs are when you sit down and slouch. Not on Instagram or Facebook of course. Not many soft stomachs on display there.

With my three kids a bit older, I’m further down the path of post-baby body understanding. I know my body has changed in a myriad of different ways after three pregnancies and three births. Some of those changes have been temporary, others permanent and many are still in the process of happening.

Whatever. Tucking my tummy into my pants occasionally, wearing Spanx or Nancy Gantz or the cheaper versions I buy at K-Mart or Target, avoiding crop tops and jersey and anything fitted that clings around my tummy area…..I’m fine with all of that.

I’m even fine with the fact there is often online speculation about whether I’m pregnant or not. It happens.

Yes I do have the occasional wistful feeling when I see some fitspo hard-bodied woman with defined abs. But really? I can’t be bothered to commit to the work that would involve. Three of the people I loved most in the world grew in there and even if they didn’t, whatever. It’s my stomach.

So, in an effort to make my friend feel better and express some solidarity, I lifted my top up the following morning after driving my kids to school, took a photo and sent it to her.

She was delighted and sent me one back of her tummy. We spent the remainder of the day playing Tummy Tennis with our phones.

Eg:

I highly recommend this. It’s a bit like sexting for mothers. Or anyone who wants to take back some power from the relentless narcissism that Instagram can be with all those skinny, hot body selfies endlessly filling up your feed.

You don’t have to do it publicly. But think about brightening a girlfriend’s day with a picture of your tummy in all its glory. Or send her mine. #tummyselfies

Because sometimes it’s nice to let it all hang out.

Have you ever sent a #tummyselfie?