After two babies, my this feels like a memory of someone else’s. I want to feel like me again. Regain confidence. Maybe be a little dangerous. I keep catching myself touching the parts I want gone.
It’s not just about looking hot (though, that doesn’t hurt). It’s about finally recognizing the woman in the mirror, not the girl who’s been surviving.
This is the messy part of the story...the before. The part no one usually shares. They usually only share the “before” once they have the “after.” I don’t have the polished after yet, just the drive, the plans, and the proof that I’m not afraid to want more.
💉