Every day, the female body is exposed to more and more judgment from society. Social media feeds are full of unrealistic photos that can really make someone feel uncomfortable in their own skin. For women with postpartum bodies, this topic can be the most sensitive. To support others, this proud mother decided to stop hiding behind filters or pieces of clothing and embrace the flaws that truly make us special.
Most mothers aren’t prepared for the challenges that come after childbirth.
Danisha, a mom of 4, recently started sharing her journey about accepting her body on social media. At first, she was really ashamed and constantly tried to hide her postpartum belly, but with her last baby, she wanted a change.
“I didn’t know that I would have as much loose skin as I do now, and stretch marks. No one ever discussed it, my doctors didn’t discuss it,” the mother explained. “I didn’t know that my body just wouldn’t look the same anymore. But I want to embrace my body, and I’m happy where I’m at.”
Danisha believes a woman’s body creates miracles.
Seeing tons of celebrities and models posing with their pregnant bellies can give us the wrong image. They can make us believe that perfection can exist and that something might be wrong with our own bodies, even lowering our confidence to the point that we forget to love ourselves.
In one of her Instagram posts, she pointed out to other moms that they are loved, saying, “Don’t let society trick you into believing you need to be ’fixed.’ Your body is not wrong, society is!”
Society expects a different image of the female postpartum body.
Women are expected to quickly bounce back to their pre-pregnancy bodies. For many mothers, this can feel like they’re strangers in their own their skin. Fighting against your body means losing the battle in the end, but knowing how to accept it and start loving yourself from all angles is a different type of pure love that can only occur if the mother is 100% ready to do it.
The brutal honesty behind Danisha’s posts makes her even prouder of who she is. “Our body is meant to evolve and change, that is what happens with growth, not everyone’s body will change the same and that’s okay,” she admitted. “My wonderful body carried 4 beautiful blessings, my belly is a reminder of that and signifies growth. It has taken me a long time to accept her, love her, and appreciate her.”
Despite the negative comments that come from everywhere, knowing how to keep your positivity is one of the hardest jobs that people face when they show themselves at their most vulnerable online.
“I have a pouch, I have soft stretchy loose skin. My physical features are not what makes it beautiful, but the fact that my body was able to create life itself for a fourth time. I’m strong as a mother.”
Danisha doesn’t let the negative comments stop her. Showing the raw reality behind a mom’s body is a huge help for other mothers out there as well. “A lot of mamas are unprepared for postpartum.”
It’s a privilege to watch our bodies change as we grow older.
Sometimes, despite all our efforts and hard work to keep our bodies in shape, genetics can get involved and create a different person in the mirror. She explained, “I love it when people tell me that if I had moisturized my skin more then my belly wouldn’t have looked ’this way’ or if I wore a waist trainer I wouldn’t have a pouch and even greater if I dieted or exercised more, then my belly wouldn’t be as ’big.’”
The mother of 4 continued, “The reality is genetics play a big role. My belly is this way because of 4 reasons. I created life 4 times and no oils or creams would have miraculously prevented it. My sagging skin, stretch marks, and other love marks are reminders of bearing my children.”
Every mother is special in her own way and no one deserves to be discriminated against because of their appearance.
“To the mama looking at herself in the mirror: It’s completely normal not to fit into your pre-pregnancy clothes your body outgrew in order to make room for your beautiful blessing. Sizing up is nothing to feel ashamed of,” Danisha declared.
It wasn’t easy, but Danisha started accepting her body.
Understanding how to love stretch marks and accept body changes can be one of the hardest steps that a mom can do. They are a natural response from the body.
“Many would love to have tiger stripes. You can also have them without having children. My tummy was home to 4 of my children, and they love it,” she said.
Beauty comes from both inside and outside.
Regardless of what we look like on the outside, whether we differ in skin color or weight, all people are special in their own way, and our bodies do an amazing job at keeping us alive. In an effort to encourage others around her, this mother points out, “Whether you choose to cover your belly or not, you’re still worthy, still beautiful.”
Here are some similar stories that show us the beauty in every woman’s body.
A Mom of 4 Proudly Documents Her Postpartum Body and Becomes the Dose of Body Positivity We All Need
A Mother Was Told Her Stomach Was “Nasty,” but She Proves How Beautiful Women’s Bodies Really Are
9 Times Ashley Graham Embraced Her Motherhood Journey, From a Postpartum Body to Breastfeeding
8 Celebrity Moms Who Got Honest and Showed Us the Raw Reality of Motherhood
Preview photo credit mama3x__ / Instagram, mama3x__ / Instagram
Entitled Mother on the Plane Damaged My Daughter’s iPad – She Faced Regret Quicker Than I Ever Expected
An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!
I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…
“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”
“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”
As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.
“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.
His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”
The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.
Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.
Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.
“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”
I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”
The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”
“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”
The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.
“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”
I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.
“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.
“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”
The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.
His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.
“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”
His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”
I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.
Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.
Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”
Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”
But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”
I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.
“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.
Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.
“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”
As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.
With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.
“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.
“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”
I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.
Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”
I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”
As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.
The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.
“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.
In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!
Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.
God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!
She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.
“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”
Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”
Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”
Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”
As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.
As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.
I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”
She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”
“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”
A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.
“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”
I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.
As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.
“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.
“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”
“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.
As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.
I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.
Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!
As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.
Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!
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