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It Wasn’t Until I Gained Pregnancy Weight That I Learned To Love My Body

I stood in front of the mirror — shirt up, stomach out — and took a slow breath. A long breath. A deep belly breath. I watched my shoulders rise and my chest expand. I stood still and watched as my abdomen began to swell. As the space between my ribs and pelvic bone became full, and then I smiled. I placed my hand on my stomach, and I calmly exhaled.

My body, I thought, and my belly, just look at my cute and beautiful belly.

Of course, I didn’t always feel this way, the old me could have seen pregnancy weight. In fact, before this moment — which was 29 years in the making — I hated my waist, and most of my body. My thighs were too big. My breasts were too small, my ass was too thick, and I was never the size I wanted to be.

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