I am a woman and more or less vain, therefore, I am fighting the good fight against pesky stretch marks. I've read that you could circle the moon backwards and hop on one foot and recite the constitution in mandarin, although it all simmers down to genetics. So I think to myself, "Self? Does mom have stretch marks?" She had ten kids, but I don't recall white claw marks on her belly. I don't recall, but I could ultimately be mistaken.
In the meantime, I drink at least 10 glasses of water, if not more, a day to keep my skin fluid. I grease myself with coconut oil, cocoa butter lotion, and other concoctions that lead to a stretch mark free body. I'm not going to sit back and take it. It's not inevidable. If I get stretch marks, I can honestly say that I've tried my darndest.
Furthermore, a gradual weight gain also helps in managing the minimal amount of stretching. Since I have to watch what I eat and stay fit, than I'm one foot ahead of the game. These are the things that keep me up at night. Not really, but it is a concern of mine as I am somewhat superficial. I admit it, I am a victim to hollywood and all those celebrities that bounce back hours later after getting a c-section. The pressure. Once again that's hollywood and I am far from a celebrity.
In a world of false perfection, I am truly far from perfect. In my practice to not become a full time schlump, you can stress my concern for stretch marks. Maybe the root of my problem is that I need to realize that it's not my exterior shell, but my interior that needs looking into.
Lesson: Grasshopper must possess goodness in order to fight evil.
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