You observe her, scanning her slender figure, your gaze tracing the silhouette that society deems desirable. You notice the way your expression shifts, perhaps revealing a hint of disdain—could it even be envy? You quickly avert your eyes when her gaze meets yours.
To you, she embodies the stereotype of a “fit mom,” the subject of derision in countless posts online. Other mothers mock her, referring to her as one of those women who seem to exist outside the realm of “normal,” often used to make others feel better about their own struggles.
But there’s so much more to her story.
You see a toned physique, the curves and muscles that ripple beneath her skin as she lifts her son into her arms. What you don’t see is the constant mental tally she maintains—counting calories, push-ups, and even the tiny cookie crumbs she allows herself from her child’s plate. She counts everything but the moments that truly matter.
You see a slim waist, perched above jutting hip bones. What you don’t notice is the turmoil within her—a stomach filled not with food but with self-doubt and insecurity. She often finds herself furtively checking for imperfections, pinching at nonexistent love handles that reflect the lack of self-love she battles daily.
You admire her “runner’s body,” her sun-kissed cheekbones, and her bronzed skin. But you’re oblivious to the voice inside her head, one that insists she must outrun not just calories, but also the haunting feelings of inadequacy. After every run, she feels a fleeting sense of peace, one that quickly dissipates when her mind drifts back to the critical thoughts that linger.
You see a mother who seemingly shed all her baby weight within days of giving birth, someone who looks like she never struggled with weight. You don’t perceive the years of heartache she endured—infertility struggles and medical challenges that weighed heavily on her heart. You’re unaware of the paradox that torments her: a body she despises, yet is the vessel for the children she loves dearly.
You label her a “fit mom,” not knowing she questions her worthiness as a mother daily. You observe her sculpted figure, assuming she has the discipline to adhere to a rigorous workout routine. However, you don’t understand the anxiety that consumes her if she sleeps past 5:30 AM and misses her chance to exercise before her kids awaken.
You see a c-section scar on her flat stomach, but you overlook the emotional scars from an eating disorder that still haunt her in vulnerable moments. You watch her engage joyfully with her children at the playground, but you don’t see the dark thoughts that sometimes invade her mind, nor the guilt she feels for not being able to fully enjoy those moments.
You assume she’s fortunate, free from worries about donning a bikini on beach outings. What you don’t see are the tears she sheds in private, struggling to find a swimsuit that doesn’t accentuate her perceived flaws, ultimately leaving the store empty-handed.
You see her as a size zero. What you fail to recognize is that she doesn’t feel like one inside. You notice the attention she garners, while she secretly longs to blend into the background.
You see her body, but do you really see her? Are you truly looking?
For those navigating similar experiences, resources like Progyny provide valuable insights on pregnancy and home insemination, while Make a Mom offers useful tools for those considering the journey to motherhood. Additionally, Intracervical Insemination serves as an authority on fertility assistance.
Summary
This article challenges the superficial perceptions we hold of “fit moms” and delves into the hidden struggles they face—emotional battles, societal pressures, and the quest for self-acceptance. It emphasizes the importance of empathy and understanding beyond appearances.