I shared this with a good friend and she suggested that I write it down, so that when I'm feeling less than okay about my body I can revisit this.
Thad is always touching my stomach and not just in light and unintentional ways. He grabs handfuls of belly fat. Ugh. I know he’s trying to get me past my hate for my stomach and the stretch marks that cover it. Usually this causes feelings of un-comfortableness that I try to push down and I basically just tolerate it. I understand his intentions, but it just doesn't have the desired effect he's after.
After a particularly vigorous touching, I told him that if I had my way I’d have a tummy tuck tomorrow.
Later that night as we were getting ready for bed, Thad stopped on his way to brush his teeth to say, “If I had a vote about the tummy tuck, I’d vote no. I love your tummy. It’s sexy. And I love you.”
I stared at him in a state of shock, because I could hear the sincerity in his voice, and asked him if he was for real.
The next morning, I revisited the subject and asked him if that’s really how he felt. Again, yes. He thinks I’m sexy - tummy and all.
I'm feeling something deep inside shifting. Something I thought was so set that nothing would budge it. But that self-hate is dissolving and acceptance is starting to grow.