My Stretch Marks Tell a Story
Have you ever heard the saying that the wrinkles or the lines on your face tell a story? Whether around your eyes, on your forehead, or on the corners of your smile they’ll be there as we age. Could it be from smiling? Frowning? Worrying? Celebrating? Will you remember what was happening in your life during those moments?
I look back and view my stretch marks in the same way.
As a pre-teen, I noticed my first stretch mark. It laid on the lower part of my back and I couldn’t stop looking at it. My mom said it was because I was growing. This made sense, I was a lot taller than a lot of my friends. And it was during this time I felt awkward and a little clumsy. Boys didn’t really look at me. And I’ll always remember who my first crush was.
As I continued to grow, so did the stretch marks. This time they were around my hip area. As a teenager, this pretty much stopped me from wearing swimsuits. I was very insecure, even though I was a mere 125lbs and 5’6. I don’t even think I knew what the word “confident” meant at this age. I did know I didn’t want to look like I did. I envied the pretty girls with the boyfriends.
In my 20’s, I noticed them in my waist area. I would lose weight, gain weight, lose weight, and gain weight. And would often beat myself up when I gained a few pounds. I was in the military and I was still trying to figure out who I was. I found myself trying very hard to fit their standards. During this time, I met my amazing hubby.
Today, I have stretch marks in areas I didn’t know we could get them. I’m not even going to go “there.” But, I will tell you I know when they first appeared and what was going on in my life at that time. I don’t hate them, in fact I embrace them. They remind me of the roads I’ve traveled. I’m thankful they will never go away. They tell me the story of my life.