womanhood

a work in progress

How Do You Feel When You’re With Your Family?

When I’m with my family, I compare myself more. Feel more. Absorb more.
Mood swings, undertones, the words that never reach lips and gaping distances that are invisible to all others.

My body suddenly feels ugly in the light of my sisters.
My face below average in the shine of theirs.
My being never ever meeting the expectation. The bar that my father sets (which he never sets, I just set it from all things unspoken).
Career. Motherhood. In all, I feel a failure.
Sometimes momentary,
Sometimes for many moments.

My thoughts fill my head.
I don’t know they’re circling.
Swarming like eels in my mind.

And I’m famished.
All the time.
Nothing satisfies me.
So I compound the weight.
The bloating.
With more upon more upon more upon more.
Need.

My judgement of myself isn’t loving.
It’s critical.
It’s never happy enough.
Never impressed enough.

Is this what family does?
Or is this what I have done?

Don’t get me wrong. I love being with them.
We haven’t even fought much yet and Cuba has been a challenge in many ways.
But perhaps they are all shining lights on things I don’t want to see.

Perhaps we’re all of that to one another.

So where do I go from here?

Break down every single photo that meets my disapproval.
To love oneself seems easier said than done.
To feel enough?
When anyone criticises your motherhood in their own state of disarray?
I know it is their own misgivings. Words unintended for how they were received.

And my relationship with my body?
Where does that begin?
It all began a long time ago.

When I was slimmer, I always thought I’d be the slimmest forever.
Then DK put in the work. Fine tuned her ass.
And I didn’t.
Thyroid came. Aru came.
As I started to unravel my own journey, I had so many tumbles and slides back down.
It feels like it has been years since I’ve loved my photographs.
And perhaps it has been decades, or perhaps I never loved them at all.

I want to be like them.

Because I don’t love myself enough… To want to be me.

///

To love me.

//

For my family who love me and are no doubt reading this – I love you. You’re taking me on a journey. I need to unravel this. All the feels.

 

x

K

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2 Comments

  1. Renata Maciula

    Hi k
    I read your blogs everyday, but todays really hit a cord with me I felt your words were mine. Just never written down. Maybe I thought if I don’t write them down those feelings don’t actually exist?!
    When I see my reflection I cringe, try not to take a second look. Photos of me tie knots in my stomach. I try not to let those evil voices in my head take over my days but they win each and every time. Sometimes my daughter will ask “mum are you ok?” And I forget for a second then they fill my brain again!
    Why is it soo hard to accept who we are and be happy?? I truly don’t want this for my daughters and sons alike but it takes over. Even at my skinniest I was happier but it still wasn’t good enough??!! Is it society? Or family? Or friends? That make us feel like this? I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a combination of all three. Hopefully one day I can just be happy with me in the ‘now’.
    Love reading your blogs daily k
    Don’t ever stop ?❤
    Renata

    • karishma

      Hi beautiful,

      Thanks so much for being so honest and open. I am TRULY touched. I think it’s so easy to get caught up and more so in a selfie generation of likes and outward approval, everything “unconscious gesture” is stacking up to bigger feelings.

      You know how you said you realised it when I wrote it? I think realising is the biggest step. It’s the point between being blind to something and then really recognising it. So – as far as I can tell, you’re more than halfway there 🙂

      Hope you’re loving you more today than you were yesterday 🙂

      Xx
      K

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