26/02/2026
I’m not a big fan of the whole “love your body” thing.
Not because it’s wrong - if it works for you, amazing, honestly 💪🏻 But for me… it just feels like another expectation. Another thing women are supposed to do perfectly.
I don’t “love” my stomach any more than I “love” my right elbow… but for years I dedicated an insane amount of mental energy to my stomach. And that’s the difference.
Society is obsessed with women’s stomachs, bums, thighs, boobs… but no one gives a damn about our elbows. So we don’t either.
But imagine if tomorrow the trend became “wrinkle-free elbows with a dash of glitter.” You just know we’d all suddenly be spiralling in the mirror like: why are my elbows ageing faster than me?? 😭
And it made me think… if nobody fixated on women’s bodies at all, would we still feel this pressure to “love” every inch of ourselves?
I understand why people try to bond with the parts they struggle with - parts that don’t match beauty standards, parts that changed, parts that carry stories (hello C-section shelf). I really do. I tried for years too.
But eventually I realised something:
What my body looks like is not who I am.
It’s not what I’ll be remembered for.
And honestly… it’s the least interesting thing about me. (And I promise you - the least interesting thing about you too.)
What my body does for me though? That’s a different story.
This body carried pregnancies. It moves me through the world. It lets me laugh, dance, hug, breathe, taste, touch, feel pleasure, feel joy. It’s a bloody miracle.
So now I focus less on trying to “love” my stomach… and more on being grateful I even have one.
And maybe that’s the point:
If “love your body” isn’t working for you… maybe you don’t have to. Maybe it’s enough to simply respect it. Appreciate it. Live in it.
It’s just a body.
And you’re so much more than that 🩷