Keeping It Real: How Speaking Our Truth + Sharing Our Stories is Empowering
As I scroll through my Instagram feed, the word that keeps bouncing around in my head is “strength”. The squares are filled with women showing up, stretch marks and real bodies proudly displayed; long captions revealing the real stories of motherhood, body image, mental health, and real life. Authentic, empowered, and strong women are making some noise and I’m HERE FOR IT.
When I was pregnant with my son five years ago, this didn’t exist. I wasn’t part of a community of women where these conversations took place. I didn’t hear stories about how hard pregnancy could be; about how having your first child strips you of your identity and gives you a brand new one; about the changes that happen to your body/your relationship/your career/your mental health/your entire life; about how you may not recognize the person you have become; about how postpartum care for mothers is essentially non-existent; and about the crushing loneliness that the early days of motherhood can bring.
Now, I have this community + these conversations at my literal fingertips. My community includes women like Sarah from The Birds Papaya sharing her powerful story of self-acceptance and self-love, Toronto-based coach + trainer Reena Parekh breaking taboos by talking about postpartum mental health in the South Asian community, the Canadian brand KNIX showing women of all shapes, colours and abilities in their ad campaigns, and the Rebel Mamas proving that being a mother doesn’t mean that you have to stop being a badass.
I wish that I had this community five years ago; I needed these voices to tell me that I wasn’t alone - that EVERY mom felt how I felt, that I would find my stride and strength, and that my vag wouldn’t be broken forever.
As a Pelvic Health Physiotherapist, I am lucky to meet moms and moms-to-be all day. I hear their worries, I feel their stress, and I see their strength. (And yes, I “fix” their vaginas. Actually, they mostly fix their own vaginas, I just teach them how).
I meet women who have accepted that leaking after having a child is “normal”. I meet women who have painful sex and think that it’s “common”, so they drink a glass of wine at the advice of their doctor. (First of all, ladies, lube is your friend. Second of all, that is bad advice re: the wine. Third of all, this can be fixed.) And you know what? I’m getting sort of tired of it. Just because something is “normal” or “common” doesn’t make it ok.
It’s time to stop accepting less than what we deserve and to stop selling ourselves short. It’s time to learn about our body and our capabilities. It’s time to be proud of how strong and resilient our bodies truly are. It’s time to share our stories and hold space for our sisters so we all feel a little less alone and a lot more supported. Telling our stories + speaking our truth is empowering AF. It’s 2020 and I’m here for it. Are you?