I think we all have things about our bodies we don’t love, that we’d like to change, maybe try on a different version if we had a chance. Sound about right? I joke that I wish I had a smaller nose and bigger boobs. Someone got the recipe mixed up when they made me!… or so I joke.
Those are the things I’d say I don’t love about my body; I actually considered getting a nose job in my teens, but after a fair bit of consideration opted to keep things the way they are. I figured if I couldn’t accept myself for the I was, then how could I expect someone else to? This especially resonates with me now that I have kids- and especially a daughter who I hope to raise to be confident in her own skin. Obviously there are some things that are harder/ impossible to change without an elective procedure, but knowing I had the option to change my appearance was a tempting one when I was younger and I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t considered getting a little work done when we’re done having kids.
The topic of body image and acceptance spans a variety of areas and isn’t limited to the changes we experience after having kids (both of the things I mentioned above stem from the years before I had kids). And on the topic of boobs, let’s face it: those are never the same after having kids and breastfeeding. I find that these kinds of emotions come in waves, sometimes we feel great and other times things chip away at us, at how we feel about ourselves. But while I sometimes wish I could change the things I mentioned above (or maybe something else depending on the day), I have also learned to think about things differently: what are the things that I can change for the better – such as my physical health– rather than those that I can’t? For example, one of the major changes my body has gone through since having kids is that my stomach and midsection by no means look the same as they did before.
I used to have a flat stomach, one that I kept toned and was proud to show off. I liked how I looked in a bathing suit- maybe a little more up padding top would be nice ;)- but I was and still a beach bum in the Summer. Take me to water and I’m a happy girl. But following Ariana’s birth I was left with stretch marks (I figured I probably would since my Mum has them), and no matter how hard I tried, my abs and the skin in that area were not the same. Looking in the mirror that Summer I questioned whether I would still be a bikini kinda gal or make the switch to some of the cute one pieces I’d been seeing. Follow that up with a second child and additional body changes and I was really unsure where I stood with myself when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t hate what I saw, but it took some getting used to, some acceptance, and that took time. Some days I think back on what my body used to look like and sometimes it gets to me, I’ll be honest. For whatever the reason, those things can creep up on us and affect us out of the blue. But that doesn’t mean they’re bad, it doesn’t mean they’re wrong. They just are.
This past Summer I hit up the beach as much as I could, ran around in a bathing suit on the hot days, and enjoyed the bright sunny days of the season while they were here. I still have things about my body that I scrutinize (remember my joke earlier about my nose and boobs?) and I’m picky about photos of myself (selfies still make me feel incredibly self conscious- how do you find a good angle with this nose?!), but I also take pride in the efforts I’m making to feel better inside and out. Running is one of those things, and whether I run for 15 minutes or an hour, the way I feel afterwards is a high that helps diminish any stresses or anxiety I may have been feeling prior. I love how I feel after a run and that positive feeling is an overwhelming one in the best way.
Over this past year I’ve shared about some of the personal challenges I was facing, and also about the addition of running into my routine and upping my self- care game in the hopes that others would be able to relate. As with any journey, it hasn’t been straight uphill but overall it’s been a positive one; I just had to make some changes. It isn’t always easy to face things, the things that really hit home in our hearts, the things that are hard to shake off. But that doesn’t mean you have to rip off a Band-Aid or go from one extreme to the other. It can be small steps. Slow progress is better than none. Learning to love and take care of yourself don’t always come easily, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.
Thank you to my friend Janette of Ava to Zoe for being on this personal ride with me and encouraging me to share more on the topic of self love and body image. And to Union Swimwear for being a company that encourages positive body images in women and helping us share about this topic.
A few months ago, Will, my husband, opened up about his life living with health challenges. Chronic illness if you want to put a label on it. And since then I’ve had it suggested to me that I should share my half of the story as the spouse, partner, in the situation. What I go through, feel, struggle with, because my side of the story deserves to be heard as well, I was told. I’d always backed away from the idea, mostly because I felt it was Will’s story to tell, his struggles, and that having me share about my own struggles with these challenges he didn’t ask for would only add stress and anxiety and questions and hurt and pain to an already sensitive part of our lives.
But later this month I’ll be sharing about some of my own personal struggles on the #makeitREIGN Campaign blog, and I thought before I put the cart before the horse and share about the outcome of what I went through last year (after reaching emotional burnout) and the growth I- we- have experienced, I should first share about some of the struggles I live with as the emotional caretaker to a man who is fighting a battle he didn’t ask for. Not because I am looking for sympathy or anything like that. But because I want to be open and honest about something very real in our lives that we live with every day. It isn’t pretty, it isn’t fair, and it has forced Will and I to face things as individuals and as a couple that can either break or strengthen you. Somedays both.
My hope is that by sharing what is written below that others in my position won’t feel guilty- as I have- or struggle with their emotions as much on the tough days when the person they love most in the world is also the biggest source of stress as well. It’s a cruel parallel to draw, but it’s a real one and for anyone else out there loves someone who lives with these challenges, you know that you carry them too, but in a different way, as someone both on the outside and inside of the situation- sort of a cruel limbo. By adding my story to the conversation I know I am sharing a very real, raw part of myself; I could face scrutiny and judgement, but if one person or couple can relate and feel a connection with what I have to say, if it helps another couple stay strong knowing they are not alone, then it will all be worth it. And as one last thing before I begin, I had Will read this before I shared it. Out of respect to him and all that he goes through I would never share this if he wasn’t all right with it, and he encouraged me to do so: ‘Kat, this is you on paper’. Those who struggle with health challenges- any challenges- deserve to be heard, but those who love them and live with them do as well, because we’re walking right alongside them. We take on a lot of their struggles while adding our own unique ones to the mix, often with a muddy combination of emotions to accompany an already delicate life situation: affection, sympathy, helplessness, frustration, anger, exhaustion- and more. If you prefer to not to read what is a very uncensored and honest account of what this can look like, feel like, now is the time to stop reading. But I hope you won’t. Here goes…
I’m sitting here trying to figure out what to say, where to start. And the more I sit here and think about what it is I want to say, the more I realize I should just try to talk about how it feels.
How what feels? I guess that could be a good place to start. The what I’m referring to is the life of a family that lives with chronic illness in it’s midst. Like an uninvited guest at dinner who welcomes themselves in or a third party in a relationship meant for two people, illness- or insert what applies to you and your life situation- is another character in the script of life. A character that I want to erase, tear out the pages with them on- burn them even. But doing so is impossible. At least it is for me, because it would mean removing something much bigger, much greater, something- someone– I love from this existence. And that I think is a great place to start when it comes to talking about how this life feels. The life of someone who lives in the presence of chronic illness, who loves someone who lives with it themselves, a fate they didn’t choose but are faced with.
Our family has shared about this aspect of our life openly, not because it was easy and comfortable, but because there is a collective voice getting louder on topics previously labelled as ‘taboo’ and stigmatized and we want to help raise that volume from a whisper to a scream. To help destigmatize and break down the real- life barriers of challenges that more people struggle with than we previously realized. The topics we used to shy away from, deny because of our fears, of how we may be treated or viewed- and yes I say ‘we’ to include those who love, support, and live with someone who deals with chronic issues because it affects them too- we are shying away from the tough conversations less and less. But within these efforts are the voices of the people propelling them forward, and the daily challenges they live with are very real, and that is where I wanted to add my voice to the conversation.
I have previously shied away from telling my half of the story. My husband is the one living with the chronic health issues and he is the one who deserves to be heard, understood, respected. He is the one who faces each day with a strength and grace that elevates him above his challenges that go beyond the scope of what any person should ever have to cope with. The moment he wakes in the morning he is forced to face these demons, to fight against them to participate in ‘normal’ life- to work and support the family he loves, the family he would do anything for. He silently fights every. Single. Day. With an invisible foe that I have come to hate. An element within him- indeed a part of him- the man I love, that I want to strike from the record. Remove from my life, walk away from. But I can’t because to do so would be to lose him. To walk away from him. Yes, the pain, the other health issues. The frustrations and patience- draining moments that I would expel from our marriage in a heartbeat if given the chance. But not him. A life without him, without these uninvited challenges, infuriating ‘why us’ situations, could be a lot simpler. And some might even argue happier. But it would be a fraction of the life that I live now. Of the other side of the coin: the joys, memories, hopes for the future of a life we hope to continue to build together. That too, would also be gone. Erased with the bad would also be all the good. That is the emotional battle I face. And the man I met, fell in love with, married, created life with- he is good.
And let me say how underwhelming a word like ‘good’ is to describe him. Oh yes, he drives me crazy, we fight, we hurt each other’s feelings. We make a great big mess out of things plenty of the time. But it’s our mess. A mess I love above all else, a mess I fight for. And it is good because of him, because of us.
Now if I haven’t convinced you enough that I am whole- heartedly in love with this man and the challenges he didn’t ask for, I’m not sure how else I could prove it here. But I hope I’ve made enough of an argument to demonstrate my love for this man that the next few sentences won’t seem so heartless. Because I know that reading them, without any sense of my person, my voice, and connotation will also remove much of the humanity behind them. So forgive me, they may appear much colder on a screen, removed from the person who has felt them, lived them. But I am sharing them in the hopes that others in my position, those who love someone who struggles, faces challenges, and fights daily through a personal battle, also feel heard and recognized. Because we are not the heroes, but we fight the same battles alongside the person we love, often suffering with our own struggles and challenges, but putting them aside to draw out the greater good for our partner. To fight alongside them and celebrate their victories. Some may see it, acknowledge it, but it’s the little gestures, acts of love, and selflessness, where we give of ourselves when we have nothing left- this is where we choose to partake in the battle- a battle we could simply get up and walk away from. But don’t.
There are days I feel heavy. Exhausted. Utterly burdened with the ‘for better or worse’ vows I took on our wedding day. I just want to walk away, quit and say f*ck it all. F*ck you and your problems. They’re yours, not mine and I can walk away. Buy a one- way ticket and step over those miserable uninvited challenges as I walk out and slam the door behind me. Aaaaaah how cleansing and satisfying it would be to shed that weight from my life. On the life that we built. In these moments the darkest thoughts and emotions are drawn out from me and I want to re- write this life script- or better yet toss the whole damn thing out the window- and start over. A clean start would feel so refreshing wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it? But would it? And then the guilt sets in. That horrible, stomach- in- your- throat feeling of ‘I’m such an awful person for thinking that’. He didn’t ask for this either but the difference is he can’t walk away from it. And just like that I spiral down into this bottomless pit of emotional ping pong: ‘you’re such a bitch’ followed by ‘but I’m so tired and don’t know if I can do this anymore’ followed by ‘he doesn’t deserve this’ followed by ‘but neither do I’… and it goes on and on until I’ve mentally tortured myself to the point of exhaustion and hating both of us: him for having these challenges and me for hating him for something he has no control over and having these cruel- beyond- words feelings.
That is the best way I can describe what living in the presence of chronic health challenges can be like. It can suck the joy and energy out of life in a slow- leak- you- can- never- find kind of way. It can feel like utter torture. Day- to- day things that others take for granted or don’t even think about can feel like momentous achievements. But there it is. There it is: you also learn to celebrate the little things. To find joy in the little things. And in a way- in a weird, contorted way of reaching optimism- isn’t that a gift of life: to enjoy it and appreciate it? When I say it can feel like a convoluted emotional roller coaster, you can see what I mean, right? How in the same breath we can be at breaking point and also then twist it around to try and find the positive?
I’d say that describes how we go about life: facing these challenges everyday but ultimately trying to look at the positive. We joke about making lemonade (you know the phrase when life hands you lemons…) and adding vodka on the hard days. We’ve learned to laugh and take turns bolstering the other- a growth in our relationship I’m really proud of. And our communication too; we’ve worked hard, fought hard, for what we have. I am by no means the collective voice for the partners who have loved ones living with chronic illness, health challenges, etc. But I am one more voice trying to share an honest and candid account in the hopes that others will feel less afraid to address how they feel, to open up and talk about it, to know they are not alone, and that their own struggles are real and valid, and ok. If one more person can feel less alone, if one more relationship can sustain these challenges because I opened myself up here honestly, then I regret no part of what I’ve written here. This took me a long time to work up the courage and emotional strength to write, not because I don’t think I should be allowed to feel frustrated, or challenged, or exhausted, or any other myriad of emotions, but because above all else, my heart hurts for the man I love and beyond fear of judgement or scrutiny, I don’t want him to hurt because I have shared what I have here.
So to him and to those reading this, know this: above all else, he is my world. I wish I could take his challenges away, to see him released of these burdens, to live how he deserves to. But I can’t. And that feeling is the cruelest, most frustrating emotion I battle with, why I ultimately lash out and make a mess of things, hurt him, crumble some days. The hardest pain we face is watching those we love suffer and that is my part of the battle. We fight it together, two imperfect people who just want to live a life they love and have built together. And that right there is the sentiment I want to end this with. The feeling I hope translates from the screen to you as you read this raw diary entry by a woman who loves with her whole heart a man she cannot help the way she wishes she could. But there is love. SO much love: unconditional, messy, imperfect love.
We share beautiful moments online captured in photos- the highlight reel as many call it- but much less often share the tough moments, the hard days. This blog is my outlet, so I like it to be a fun place, but I also want it to be real and honest. On some days when I post a light- hearted photo on social media, it’s because I need that outlet, that distraction. It’s not to be fake or to make things seem better than they are, it’s me trying to stay positive, lighten the day.
It’s not very often I sit down to write a post and struggle to find words, I’m a pretty open book and they usually come easy. But this post is different. It’s different from anything I have posted before because it’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Will. I’ve opened up about some of the personal struggles I faced in the past year (you can see those posts here and here), but I didn’t share the whole story- some of the things that happen behind the scenes with our family as a whole- because it wasn’t mine to tell. It was Will’s. And I respected his privacy because that’s what he wanted and deserved. But after the amazing experience and response I had after sharing about my own challenges, I thought it may have the same positive impact for Will and those who read his words, and I asked if he might be interested in sharing part of himself here.
At first he was hesitant, unsure if it was something he was comfortable with, and understandably so. But after talking things through, he ultimately decided that he’d give it a try; to open up and talk about some things aren’t easy to address. And to his credit, I think this is challenging for guys more than for women, they tend not to talk as openly about things they deal with, so I admire, respect, and appreciate his willingness to put this out into the world, in the hopes that others may read it- men and women- and be able to relate, and maybe even find comfort in it.
For him, I hope he knows the impact that sharing can have, that every conversation we start is another voice added to the collective mix, and that it might be as helpful to him- cleansing even- as it hopefully will be to those who read this and struggle with similar things. This is about being honest and real online and in life, about trying to advocate that no matter what you face, no matter how overwhelming it can feel, you are not alone. This is Will’s story to share, and I cannot thank him enough for letting me help put it out into the world. Life is messy, it’s far from perfect, but it’s not without it’s beauty; sometimes you just have to fight a little harder for those beautiful moments or make them happen for yourself. I’m proud to call this man my husband, and you’ll see why. Behind his cheeky smile is a man who loves his family unconditionally, puts himself last, and has a strength found from navigating some interesting challenges. We wrote this post together and I think it’s about as honest it gets. So here we go…
You can’t tell by looking at me, but I struggle daily with some health- related challenges that have affected me for more than a decade. I’m going to be 31 this year and have dealt with many of these things for half of my life. This isn’t about wanting attention, or wanting a pity party. As a guy, the last thing you want to do is draw attention to these things and open up about them, but I also know the overwhelming feeling of isolation all too well- that feeling that no- one else understands- and facing that alone is not healthy.
I have lived with depression and anxiety since my mid teens, and have in recent years lived with chronic pain including myofacial disorder (this causes the body to feel pain unrelated from anything affecting it at the time- also known as referred pain- when you can experience pain for no apparent reason). It can feel like a vicious circle sometimes: the pain can trigger the anxiety and bring on depression and vice versa, my body responds before I have time to stop it. Going through life with these things isn’t easy. It’s changed every aspect of me. It’s changed my outlook on life- it tends to now be more dark and pessimistic; it makes me feel angry for what I’ve been faced with- and I have to work against this to stay positive. But as much as it can be challenging, I’ve also a learnt a lot from what I’ve experienced.
I don’t talk a lot about it with people because I feel judged, like it’s used against me. As hard as some people try to understand, there’s no way for them to. And I think as a guy you get treated differently because we’re expected to be tough and strong- to ‘man up’ and not talk about it. Women tend to talk more, and get sympathy and compassion. Let’s be honest, guys don’t usually talk much anyways, especially when it comes to problems. And obviously you’re not going to get support if you don’t talk about it, and that’s where it can be challenging as a man living in pain. But that’s why it’s important to talk about it.
Sometimes I feel like these issues have robbed me of who I should be. I feel like the real me is locked away and the key has been tossed. I’m not able to do as much as I want; I’m limited. Time is limited. Energy is limited. It’s hard to feel understood; getting love, support, and understanding is difficult because it’s something you can’t see. These things have made me more reclusive and anti social simply because it’s hard for people to understand. People often can’t tell I’m having a bad day; somedays it’s obvious by the look on my face, or maybe with how I carry myself. But on many days I hide it well- because I want to be strong for my family, and I hate thinking of this as my identity. But that doesn’t mean on those days I’m not suffering or in pain; it can make you feel isolated and alone. Like a prisoner trapped in your own body. I feel like I’ve lost sense of who I am, I don’t know who Will is anymore.
I live with these things everyday, which can get exhausting. It’s the same fight everyday just to keep my head above water and it can make it difficult to enjoy life the way I want to; many of the things I used to enjoy I can’t because of the pain. This can make you become very reclusive. People don’t understand; it’s difficult to explain and people often can jump to conclusions. I feel like I’m constantly judged for things that go on behind the scenes, for things that people can’t see. And I think that’s why it’s important we talk about these things, so others facing their own challenges know they’re not alone. It’s always comforting to speak with others who do understand and are going through the same or similar- and it’s a source of comfort speaking to them and knowing they feel the same way, face the same challenges.
Through everything, I’ve really learnt the importance of having a positive attitude, but will also be the first to admit it’s damn hard some days. You definitely have the days when things get the better of you and you throw yourself a pity party. But on the good days when you have a positive attitude it definitely helps, and you can remind yourself of why you do the things you do, why it’s all worth it. The pain’s always going to be there, but I can choose to be miserable and stay in bed all day or choose to be positive, to get up and live life. Mind over matter really does make a difference.
If I could give any advice to others struggling with similar things, it’s this: Don’t let the pain stop you from living life. Going out and living it will actually make it better. And sometimes you really aren’t doing it for yourself; you’ll do it for a loved one, push yourself for a loved one, and afterwards you’re glad you did.
A lot of times it’s easier to do things for other people because it’s easy to say no to yourself, avoid things for yourself. I find it’s harder for me to let others down than to let myself down; I want to make my loved ones happy and that pushes me even on the tough days. If my wife and kids weren’t in my life, I wouldn’t be working as much as I am; family is a good motivator (even if they can make life crazy and wild sometimes) they’re the motivator and reason to keep going, to keep trying.
To those who don’t suffer but are trying to understand for a loved one: things that help are love, patience and understanding. I don’t choose to suffer the way that I do and I have no control over it. I do what I can to make things better where and when I can, to stay positive, but it’s rarely that simple. It can be frustrating for loved ones and I know they can lose their patience, but it helps when we feel loved and supported, even if they can’t understand what we’re going through.
To those who are suffering from chronic pain- or have another challenge they’re facing: Focus on the positive and you’ll find the positive. It helps. It can turn a shitty day into a good day. If you focus on the negative, all you’re going to find is the negative and I know that first hand. Know that you’re not alone and make an effort to connect with others who do understand, if only to help you keep your sanity intact.
For our family, we are working on finding things that work for us: improving communication within our marriage, speaking with counsellors, and setting realistic, flexible goals as things to look forward to and get us through the tough days have helped. Eating healthier and exercise have also made a difference. There is no formula, you have to find outlets that work for you, but they do exist.
We hope sharing about this contributes to the conversation of tough topics in a positive way, to help break down the stigmas surrounding mental health and other challenges people face. Whether you are the person struggling with something or you know someone who is, we hope sharing about our journey helps in some way. Like the saying goes ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’- you never know by looking at someone what they may be facing in life, and sometimes something as simple as a smile or a hug can be the thing that turns someone’s day around. Life isn’t always happy and positive, sometimes you have to find your happy place, and that’s ok. It doesn’t mean it’s not there. You just might have to work a little harder, but you’ll appreciate it that much more once you get there.