Thank You Dear Stretch Marks

First time in my life I learned the art of accepting your true self

Aditi K
Aditi K
Mar 3 · 4 min read
Photo by Stephen Olmo on Unsplash

Have you ever felt ashamed of wearing a dress or something were stretch marks on your body would peek out?

I had entertained these pinkish-red uninvited guests at my place ever since I was fifteen. Sometimes they used to hide behind my knees and so I would say no to every short skirt back then. As time passed by the guests kept coming. The most embarrassing ones were the itchy cellulite lines on the shoulders and arms. After this, I restrained myself from wearing all the cut sleeves clothing. All those pretty teenage dresses were getting locked up.

The idea was to say a big NO to all those outfits which made me feel not so pretty “inside my head”.

As a young adult I was a super conscious human being.

I was so embarrassed because I had heard from everyone that these marks come on women’s bodies once they birth. For this depressing problem, my teenage brain was ready with a rescue plan. I decided to wear my elaborative winter clothing every day for the rest of my life. Full covered, no exposure!

As I grew up, I became a gym person, and exercising became my thing. I went to the gym when there were only a few people around. That shyness still existed. My regular exercise regime helped me in respecting and accepting my body. But you see, young independent souls get distracted easily during inner self-realization.

Time passed by and I got lost with all the materialistic things. I loved seeing myself in fitted gym clothes more than ever. Everything was going well in those covered outfits. Love happened and marriage brought in the flavor of romance.

Though my husband had always appreciated me for who I am. But he could sense my discomfort whenever we went shopping together. With time I became a conscious buyer. There were no new styles that I ever tried. And whatever I bought, I used to get them customized for my requirements.

My hormonal brain during pregnancy became the most complex object in the universe. During the nine months. I had tried every local and international brand for getting clear skin. Nothing helped! But there was something scarier that was waiting for me towards the end. I now had to deal with a permanent C-section scar.

A strange thing happened when my dearest photographer friend came for a photo shoot at our place. On her way to India, she had got matching summer dresses for me and her. It was such a sweet gesture. But that dress was way too open for my body. I was so scared not because of the size but because of the marks. My nightmare became true. In no time my friend understood my defense mechanism. She took my pictures while dressing up. While we wore makeup like good old college days she told me to be that carefree girl once again. She kept insisting on trying the dress privately and there came a moment when I wasn’t able to say no to her.

Tears rolled down my eyes when I saw myself wearing a gorgeous summer dress. Though I’m not even close to the size 10 that I used to be in the past. But I had never looked beautiful to myself in months.

This battle of losing confidence is complex to explain. Gaining the strength to wear what you love and what others would think of you plays a big role.

Earlier during my bachelor days, I was alone so I managed and my exercise regime also helped. But in my subconscious mind, I was always on high alert. People comment on us because we give them that freedom to hurt us. We get judged because we give others a chance to let them judge us.

At last, the imperfect stretch marks here and there made me look so perfect in all the photographs. My pictures looked gorgeous with my child in my arms. That was the moment when I came out of the conscious zone.

Since then, these scars have just existed in my life . They were no more ugly to me and there was nothing much for acceptance or denial.

Feels kind of liberated!

MyFirst

Remembering the first time I …

Aditi K

Written by

Aditi K

Medium Curated Writer | Passionate about Parenting, Relationships, & Self-Growth | Mother | Development Sector Professional | MBA | Software Engineer

MyFirst

MyFirst

The first experience is always special. It’s personal. It’s close to your heart. It’s where you make mistakes. It’s where you learn. It’s where you grow. It’s something that you remember always. And, it becomes a great story for others. So, come and share your first experience.

Aditi K

Written by

Aditi K

Medium Curated Writer | Passionate about Parenting, Relationships, & Self-Growth | Mother | Development Sector Professional | MBA | Software Engineer

MyFirst

MyFirst

The first experience is always special. It’s personal. It’s close to your heart. It’s where you make mistakes. It’s where you learn. It’s where you grow. It’s something that you remember always. And, it becomes a great story for others. So, come and share your first experience.

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