Loving Ourselves Through It

This post is the first in a series of posts to better get acquainted with the summit founders. Though both of us have stopped infertility treatments, we are not immune to needing to continue working on improving ourselves: mind, body, and spirit. As they feel organic and necessary, we will write about our own struggles and overcoming them so that others feel less alone. Because the truth is, healing and self-improvement are things you must constantly work on and are completely, undeniably worth it.

The things we detail here will be rooted in infertility though they may appear to be veiled by something else. We think being vulnerable and opening up here will give you the chance to see why we love this work so much.

Now, here's Lindsay.


When Tia and I decided to get the summit up and running so quickly, my original thought wasn’t that it was impossible.

My immediate thought was I wasn’t going to have enough time to get my body where I wanted it to be, and down the shame-spiral I went. I knew I’d be unhappy with my weight and blame myself for it, but I have to be completely honest:

The majority of my weight gain IS because of infertility and it’s stress and hormones, but I could’ve started to lose some of it by now. Except I haven’t, and I’m self-aware enough to know why.

Even though I love the work we are doing, even though I feel its importance in my bones, sometimes I wonder if I’m worthy of it. Brene talks about this feeling a lot and how normal it is for people to doubt themselves, even when they’re doing work they’re destined for. If you’ve ever asked yourself “Who do you think you are?” when you’ve dreamed something big like starting a blog or asking for a raise, you know what I’m talking about.

This is a natural human reaction, because we have grown up in a time when people ask this about other people often, especially when they step into the spotlight.

What makes you special?

I think if we're not careful buying into the societal expectation of proving yourself or playing by someone else's rules can really be a mindf*ck. 

Feeling confident and being happy with who I am is something I have to constantly work on, it’s something we all have to constantly work on, and when something new or exciting happens, I almost always find myself wondering if I’m worthy of what I’m creating.

But because I have  read the research, taken the courses, and put myself through intense therapy, I know I am worthy. The answer is yes. I just have to remind my brain of this. I think there's a common misconception in society that says if you do the work of healing you'll never feel the scar, and I just want to be clear that that's not true. Coming to terms with truth allows us to move past it faster so we feel less pained by it.

Knowing this, I also felt a shift in perspective this time, because I was perfectly happy with the effort I put into losing weight even though I didn’t reach my original goal. And I asked myself a different question.

Who I am to stand on stage and tell people to keep trying, to do hard things that make them uncomfortable, if I’m going to avoid the stage because I'm unhappy with my appearance? 

Healing isn’t linear, right? So why would healing my body be any different?

In my head, I kept repeating this:

Practice what you preach. Give yourself the compassion and empathy you so freely give to others. Don’t be so hard on your body because it has done amazing things for you even if you don’t like the way it looks.

You guys, we need to start being kinder to ourselves. This whole guilt and shame about our bodies, no matter where they are, is really toxic and part of the reason we get stuck. We get so wrapped up in what we're not that we forget what we are.

We are worthy. We are capable. We are so much more than a number on a scale.

I know there a lot of us who pack on weight while we’re dealing with infertility, especially when our diagnoses can actually cause weight gain on top of the meds. So, I really just want everyone to know that I see you if you’re struggling and I don’t want you to think you’re alone.

You’re not.

I’m here with and standing beside you, you gorgeous thing.

Will you stand with me and refuse to let infertility make you feel lesser than in this way? Because I think the only way to truly let our minds and bodies heal from such a deeply rooted, difficult trigger of being unworthy, is to love ourselves through it.

So that’s what I’ll do.

Later this week I'm going to suggest you join me on this journey, but ONLY if you feel called to do so. It's not my job to convince you this is something you need to do, but I'd like to think the power of community could help us all.

We're better together.

And we look good when we show up for ourselves. See that joy down below? I wasn't thinking about my weight then.