I always thought that by the time I became a mom, I’d feel confident in my body. In the almost ten years since my first daughter was born, however, I have struggled with body image.

Why is it that when considering our bodies, we focus not on how it feels or what it needs, but instead we tend to spend our time focusing on how it looks?

One of the biggest changes to spending more time at home, I realized, was not being observed by others. I remember, in the “before times”, during meetings I might have spent some mental energy on being aware of how others were perceiving me - my body, expressions, and movements.

So often we talk about eating as a means to an end, but I love to think about food as part of an experience and something to be enjoyed, not just something to be recorded and counted to make me smaller.

I realized I had no idea how to recognize what foods made me feel good or bad, or how to actually recognize fullness or hunger cues. I was so out of tune with my body that I didn’t know what joyful movement felt like, or how to find ways of moving my body that best served me.

I used to think I wasn’t a ‘gym person’, just like I wasn’t a sports person at school. My internal narrative dripped with scorn. I wasn’t one of those people I could see from the windows, running on the spot like a hamster in a wheel.

As a western society, we reveal a definition of aging that elevates the physical effects while possibly depleting the inward growth taking place, with many viewing the aging process as something to be grieved, ignored, or even reversed instead of displayed.

A friendly woman on the plane asks, “What school do you go to?” When I start to say I’m an engineer, I can already tell by the surprised look on her face what she’ll say. “Oh wow. Good for you. I thought you were still in college.”

All of us have struggled with body image at one point or another. As the thoughts come up, I’d like you to consider who benefits from your struggle with body image and what tools can you use from the body neutrality movement to get past it.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m gross,” my mother said as she slipped off her top in the dressing room at Macy’s. “I have rolls.” She pouted and grabbed her sides proving to me they existed.

My actual image, though — confident as I was — was short and stocky. I looked strong, yes, but in a female farmhand kind of way. If I had been tanner, you might have wondered if I’d come in from the field and thrown on my best suit just to apply for another crop loan.

I’ve always been the kind of mother who has encouraged my daughter to “stop and smell the roses.” Together we take in, admire, and enjoy the beauty we see in the world around us. This comes naturally to me. What doesn’t is encouraging my daughter to take in, admire, and enjoy the beauty of her own appearance.

I am baffled. Do people buy bras more frequently than two years? I peek inside my shirt at my saggy, sweat stained nursing bra I wear despite no longer nursing. I am certain all of my bras are as old as the breasts they hold.

I don’t let my negative thoughts about my body leave the confines of my mind. I have two girls and a son, and I don’t want toxic words seeping into their fragile minds.

For me, the number on the scale tells more than my weight. In my mind, it is the sum total of my worth. And because I cannot not become obsessed with its judgment, I make the choice to stay away completely.

Let's get real. Let's have an honest, raw conversation about social media, body image, and what it can do to a pretty stable, normal self-esteemed adult.

Being overweight during her formative years has taught Cara a lot about life - dealing with bullies, making friends, and striving to value people for who they are and not what they look like.

What if you treated your body like the most important relationship in your life? What if you viewed it as a partnership that requires understanding, nurturing, and forgiveness?

Intentionally taking time to move my body unlocks space that allows me to be present. Space that provides an opportunity for reflection. Space that opens a gateway to wonder. Wonder at the amazing body I live in. I am in awe of what my body can do.