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March 20, 2017
I have given birth to five babies. I also have MS. I work hard day in and day out to make healthy choices so my kids will have their mommy around for as long as possible. With a disease like this, every single day is precious and I try not to take the time I have for granted.
For too long, I ached to have my pre-baby body back (say that ten times fast). I thought with enough clean eating and exercise, I would once again look like I did in high school. The funny thing is, before I had babies, I hated my body. I have wasted an embarrassing amount of energy body shaming myself.
I have struggled with body image issues since early childhood, but I have come a long way and I hope these pictures, taken on the same day at the same time will help any mommy who is working hard to, not only embrace her post-baby body, but to take pride in it.
These scars and this stretched out skin on my belly represent 5 of the greatest accomplishments of my life. I am no longer ashamed. This summer, I will put on that bikini and enjoy this body that has brought five lives into the world. I will not hide my body to make others more comfortable, and I certainly will not apologize for it.
XOXO,
-Tobi Blake
December 10, 2016
I play Poker. I love Poker. I’m pretty decent at Poker. I met my husband, the most fantastic soul I've ever known, playing Poker.
The other night at our weekly game, there was a man who made my life hell. Unfortunately, lewd behavior is no stranger to the poker world, but usually the guy stops when I make it clear I’m not ok with it.
Not this guy.
I sat down at the final table of the tournament, the only woman left in the game, and this man immediately commented on my “tits.” I could see how intoxicated he was and asked him to please not talk to me.
After the first few hands, he declared to the table that I was “just the right amount of feminine.” He said if I were any more masculine he wouldn’t be talking to me. Again, I asked him to stop.
Vodka tonic after vodka tonic, he stared at my chest and made comment after degrading comment about it. And I continued asking him to please stop talking to me.
He told me all the things he’d like to do to my body. He told me how much I would like the things he could do to me. I told him to shut up.
He was relentless.
After being shut down repeatedly, he asked me to sneak out with him for 20 minutes to have sex. He begged. “Please? Your husband won’t even notice we’re gone.”
I was livid.
After several hours of playing well, I was leading that poker game. I had a great chance at winning the tournament. But because of a drunken man at the final table who viewed me as nothing but a warm body that could give him pleasure, I saw no other choice than to throw in my cards and walk away.
Before starting a skincare company, I worked for years waiting tables at restaurants. I’ve driven home after many nights of hard work, distraught and defeated after the unthinkable comments and gestures made by men who treated me this way for no other reason than that I am a woman.
One man while looking at the rib options on the menu peered up at my chest and said, “I was going to order a large rack but, lucky me, I’ve got one right here.”
I was asked by a manager if I was a porn star and told that if I wasn’t, I should be because I could make great money.
A co-worker once wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered in my ear, “I could f*ck you so hard. I could f*ck you for days.”
I’ve been groped and grabbed and ogled more times than I can count.
I wish I could say I stood up for myself even once. I wish I could declare with pride that I told every last one of those men to go to hell.
But I didn't.
While I've learned to defend myself at a poker table, I am ashamed to admit that I was not so bold in a work setting. Instead of standing up for myself, I giggled and smiled or playfully pushed them away.
I did not want to lose my job or cause riffs with co-workers. I did not want to get a bad tip or a negative review. I had a family to feed.
So I dealt with it. And I walked away feeling like less than a human being. Like my feelings didn't matter. Like I was nothing more than an object to be used for the amusement of men.
Never again. I'm taking a stand. I am done.
How is this still happening? How is it almost 2017 and women are still dealing with this nonsense?
I am sick of it. I'm so fed up! It is pathetic that this is still a problem, but it is not going to change if we don't collectively take a stand. Not just women but real men too!
I was raised to believe that as a woman, it is my responsibility to dress “modestly” so as to not provoke boys or men to think impure thoughts.
Guys, I have news for you. I could show up to dinner in a damn string bikini, and you and you alone are still responsible for your own thoughts, words and actions.
Control yourself.
No, it is not flattering when you stare at my body. No, it is not enjoyable when you make disgusting sexual comments. I will continue to dress however I want. And you do not have permission to rape me with your eyes and your words.
Enough.
Even if a woman does not have the courage to defend herself, when she giggles and smiles because she doesn't know how to take a stand, your behavior is not healthy. No matter how she responds, your degrading words and actions are not appropriate, it is not fair, and it needs to stop.
Sitting at that poker table with 7 other men, I was appalled that not one of them spoke up and told this jerk to stop. Instead, they stayed silent and looked down at their cards while I tried my best to defend myself.
Can I ask a favor of you? Can we commit to standing up for one another? If you see someone being bullied, in any way, please say something. Do something. Help!
Women, it is not your responsibly to dress in a way that encourages men to behave. You dress however you feel comfortable. Be proud of your body! Dress in whatever you feel confident and beautiful in.
If someone treats you inappropriately, have more courage than I did and stand up for yourself! Make it known if you’re uncomfortable with how somebody is touching or talking to you. Send the message loud and clear that it is not ok. If we don't take a stand, things will never change.
I will continue to teach my daughters to respect themselves. That doesn't mean covering their bodies from head to toe. It means making healthy decisions based on healthy motivations. It means standing up for themselves when they're mistreated.
I want my two daughters to know they don’t owe anybody anything. They can dress in what they feel confident and beautiful in and nobody has the right to treat them with anything but respect.
I will continue to teach my boys that their thoughts and actions are their own responsibility. I will continue to tell them how important it is that they respect themselves and that they respect girls and women. My five boys will know they do not have the right to make comments about anyone’s body, no matter what shape or size.
I have a large family. My life is busy. Most of my days are spent in sloppy mom buns and yoga pants. If I want to get dressed up and feel sexy for an evening, I will!
Men, I'm not getting all prettied up for your enjoyment. I don't get some kind of sick thrill out of your tasteless remarks. I am not putting on that sexy dress to get cat calls and disgusting comments from guys who think and act with their genitalia.
I’m dressing up because, after working hard for everyone else all day every day, I enjoy letting loose and feeling sexy and beautiful sometimes.
But guess what! My motivation for dressing however I want is none of your damn business! So keep your comments to yourself.
And keep your eyes up here.
Tobi Blake
March 25, 2016
I am a mother to seven children. No, that is not a typo. I gave birth to five of them. My middle name should be legally changed to Kegel.
Some days I feel like I'm on top of it all. Mostly, I spend my days trying to stay sane amidst absolute chaos. By the end of most days, I feel like I survived some insane war battle. A glass of red wine and an episode (or five) of House of Cards feels like a legitimate vacation.
I love my kids dearly. I would do anything for them. I work from home. I'm there to change the diapers and make their meals. I read them stories and help with their homework. I’m there to kiss the boo-boos and tuck them into bed at night. I try hard to make our home a safe and happy place to grow up.
But, I am more than a mother. And it took me 10 years to realize it.
I was 19 years old when I married and I had 4 kids by age 25. Eventually, I found myself overwhelmed, overweight and depressed. I divorced my first husband after 9 years of marriage.
I had lost myself.
It took me a while to heal from the failure of my first marriage. I put on more weight as I struggled to find myself again as a single mother of four.
Eventually, I met the man of my dreams. He is my soulmate in every sense of the word. I know, I know. It sounds disgustingly cliché. But it’s true. AJ understands me to my core. He loves and supports me unconditionally. We had our seventh child together (AJ has 2 children from a previous marriage), an incredible little boy who has his daddy's beautiful heart.
After our son was born, I worked hard to lose the baby weight I had been carrying for over a decade. I ate healthy and worked out and in one year I lost 35 pounds. I went from a size 12 to a size 6.
Our wedding day was one of the happiest days of my life. AJ and I and our seven children were there. No one else. It was our special day, simple and intimate, and it could not have been more perfect. I was genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time.
But I hated my naked body.
After 5 pregnancies, I could no longer jump or sneeze without peeing myself. My boobs, having been used as a milk dispensary for 5 hungry little monsters, became droopy and flat; my thighs and butt were covered in stretch marks and my stomach could best be described in the words of my six year old--- “like the face of an old granny--” wrinkled, stretched and full of excess skin.
After working hard to lose the baby weight, I longed to feel sexy and confident in a swimsuit and...ahem...in the bedroom.
I had my breasts augmented. I still wasn’t happy.
I decided the answer to my problem was a tummy tuck. If I could just fix my wrinkly, stretched out stomach, I knew I would finally be happy with my body.
AJ insisted that I did not need the boob job, and I certainly did not need more surgery. He tried to help me see the beauty he sees. In spite of how he felt, he was supportive. He started putting away every extra penny he could for my “mommy makeover.” I felt guilty for wanting something so vain, but he knew how much it meant to me and insisted on helping me get there.
Finally, the time came to meet with the surgeon. This guy was the best of the best in Scottsdale, Arizona for tummy tucks. He told me that during my surgery, he could take the excess fat from my love handles and put it in my butt. Perfect tummy and a killer ass? YES PLEASE!
Then something happened to me in a bathroom stall.
Let me explain.
I don’t know what triggered it. It was an ordinary day. I brought the kids to see AJ at work. When we arrived, he was visiting with an older man, one of his regular customers. The man saw me walk in with our children, ages 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, and 2. He was blown away that AJ had such a large family. AJ chuckled at his reaction and said something about how lucky he was to have found his soulmate. He told the man that our life is crazy but wonderful, and that though it is nearly constant chaos, he has never been happier. Just a simple conversation, but in that moment, I looked into my husband's smiling eyes and was flooded with deep frustration.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I robbing myself of happiness over something so unimportant? I have a wonderful life. I have an amazing job, an incredible husband, and 7 healthy and happy children. Why can I not I be satisfied? Why can't I let it go? Why oh why can I not be happy with and thankful for the body I have?
I was getting emotional so I quickly excused myself to the restroom. I sat in that stall and cried. I thought about how lucky I am to be in a healthy relationship with a man who loves and respects and supports me. Though life is stressful, we are so very fortunate. We have seven fantastic children. I am healthier and happier than I have ever been.
It was a moment of clarity and closure for me---a life-changing, almost spiritual moment. Sitting in that bathroom stall, I came to the conclusion that it was time to love and accept and enjoy my post-baby body. It was time to put on that damn bikini.
I made the decision right then and there that those marks were not going anywhere. I don't need a perfect stomach to feel beautiful! These lines and wrinkles represent the making of our family--the sacrifice I made to bring five kids into this world. They remind me of each birthing experience and the overwhelming joy I experienced looking into the eyes of each one of my children for the first time. I am proud of this stomach!
I walked out of that bathroom a new and empowered woman. I wanted to thank AJ for supporting me in this journey toward embracing my body. I wanted to find a special way to break the news to him that I no longer wanted the tummy tuck he had sacrificed so much to save for. I decided to have some professional “sexy” pictures taken for him. I went home, took a deep breath and booked the shoot.
I was nervous to say the least, but the photographer was so sweet and she put me right at ease. It was a life-changing experience—liberating in a way I never expected. I asked her to take a picture with my stomach in it—no photoshopping, no editing…my stomach….just as my husband sees it.
When the pictures arrived, I set up our balcony with candles, pillows and champagne. My heart was pounding. He had no idea what was going on.
I showed him the pictures. He wept. It was one of the most precious experiences we have ever had together. We held each other and cried and expressed our love and gratitude for each other. And then we had incredible sex.
TMI? Too bad.
Moms, let’s quit trying to reach a ridiculous level of perfection. Our bodies are a patchwork of our lives, and those marks represent a journey. Those marks are beautiful. Embrace them! Enjoy your naked body! Have fun with sex! After a long day with kids, Lord knows you deserve a killer orgasm!
Let's make our health and happiness a top priority. Happy mommies raise happy kids!
Every. Single. Day is precious. Put on that damn bikini! Let’s dance! Let’s play! And let’s start making our sexual pleasure as much a priority as our partner’s. Wouldn’t we want the same for our daughters and our daughters' daughters?
Screw thigh gaps! I want my girls to know they can do anything and be anything they set their minds to. I want them to understand that they deserve to be an equal in their relationships, and they can have fun and feel beautiful and have great sex, even after motherhood! I want them to know their bodies are sacred and beautiful and meant to be enjoyed. I want them to love and respect their bodies and I want them to find a partner who does the same.
And if my daughters decide to have children of their own, I want them to be proud of the marks that appear on their tummies. Those are marks of bravery. Of courage. Of love. Of sacrifice. And I will never go back to being anything but proud of them.
-Tobi Blake
Creator of Belpeau Nourishing Exfoliant