The Power of Words, Healing, and Coming Home to Our Bodies
Over the weekend, I said something out loud that I’ve been trying so hard not to feel deeply during postpartum: "I hate my body."
Even just writing those words brings up a mix of shame, sadness, and vulnerability. But it’s the truth. It’s my current reality. I’ve struggled with body image and body dysmorphia throughout my life. Disordered eating, persistent acne, insecurity—I’ve carried them like invisible weights for years. And I thought I had healed. I had worked so hard to "get better." To stop the cycle of self-loathing and change the narrative I had been telling myself for so long.
Affirmations were a huge part of that healing. I used them like a flashlight in the dark, guiding me back to myself, to love, to truth. I practiced standing in front of the mirror, looking at myself with softness and whispering things like, "My body is strong," and "I am enough as I am." Slowly, those words planted roots.
But here I am again.
Standing in front of the mirror, postpartum, confused about what to wear. Not fitting into pre-pregnancy clothes, or even the next size up. Avoiding eye contact with my own reflection. And in a moment of exhaustion and emotion, those words slipped out—words I don’t ever want my daughter to learn to say about herself.
Every morning, I do positive affirmations with Lowen. I tell her, "You are strong. You are kind. You are brave. You are beautiful." I mean every word of it. But I know she sees me. She sees how I look at myself in the mirror. She sees how I adjust my clothes and tug at my shirt. Our kids don’t always do what we say—they do what we do. And I don’t think I can fake this one anymore.
It’s time for a shift. A deep one. A rooted one. One that goes beyond slapping positive words over pain and calling it good. This kind of change starts with mindfulness. With becoming aware of the story we’re telling ourselves, and deciding—one breath, one moment, one word at a time—to tell a different one.
The Magic of Words
Our words shape our reality. They create the lens through which we see ourselves and the world. If the story I tell myself is "I’m not enough," I will find evidence of that everywhere. But if I can shift the narrative—even just slightly—I start to open a window to something new. Something truer.
Here are some affirmations I’m leaning into right now. Not to cover up the hard feelings, but to coexist with them. To make space for healing.
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My body is worthy of love exactly as it is.
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I honor the journey my body has been on.
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I am allowed to grieve and still grow.
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I am more than a number or a size.
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I choose compassion over criticism.
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My body is the home of my soul, and I will treat it with kindness.
Rituals for Soul Healing
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Mirror Time – Just five minutes a day. Look in the mirror and meet your own eyes. Say one kind thing. That’s it.
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Body Gratitude List – Write down three things your body did for you today. Breathing, holding your baby, walking outside—whatever feels real.
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Movement with Presence – Move your body not to punish it, but to connect with it. Walks, stretching, dancing with your kid in the kitchen—anything that feels good.
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Affirmations with Lowen (and Myself) – Keep doing them, but this time, let her see me doing them in the mirror too. Let her hear me say, "I love my body," and mean it—eventually.
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Create Space for Emotions – Journal the hard stuff. Cry if you need to. Healing isn’t linear, and grief is part of the process.
This is Why Ever & Alder Exists
Ever & Alder was born from the belief that life is fleeting, and what we wear should reflect what matters. It’s more than fabric—it’s a reminder of who we are, what we value, and the stories we’re telling ourselves. And right now, I’m rewriting my story. From shame to softness. From judgment to grace. From "I hate my body" to "I am learning to love my body again."
If you’re here reading this, maybe you’re somewhere on that path too. Let’s walk it together, with honesty, intention, and compassion.
Words matter. Let’s choose the ones that bring us home to ourselves