I was talking with a girlfriend of mine, K.C. Keen. She as a mother knows all too well what I am about to write about. I just wanted to give her a shout-out for giving me a great article to write. This has needed to be said for a long time, so hear me out.

We've heard it all. "I love the dad bod." The whole, "I love that they're comfortable enough to gain a little weight and that it's OK for them to have a beer gut and eat junk food whenever they want."

Truly, we women don't care. We love that you're comfortable with your dad bod, or maybe we just don't care because it's not as big a deal as it is for women to have the "perfect" body.

I rarely hear guys fat shaming other guys. They could probably not care less, and that burger/beer is more important than their six-pack. And let's face it, men are more about looks than women are. Not saying all, but most. And that is definitely not a top priority in our book.

But why do we women have to be "skinny" in order to feel accepted. Why can't we have the "mom bod" and be accepted for what it is?! Just like the dad bod.

After being in a loving, committed relationship, it's totally normal to put on a few. Just like the "Freshman 15," it's the "Falling in Love 20." Then add kids to the mix, and you can kiss your pretty body goodbye.

Although some women bounce back miraculously after a baby (I hate you -- just kidding) there are also women like me, who have a lot of trouble getting their "perfect" bodies back.

But how come we have to work so hard at it? Why do we have to let it consume every outfit we wear, every mirror we walk by? Why do we become so solely focused on trying to get our "old" bodies back? Why can't we just accept what it looks like? Why can't we all as women come together and realize that we all struggle with appearance, small or big? Why are we such a body shaming community?

We go through countless changes as women. Some more than others. Not to mention we are more emotional than men, so when someone shames your stretched-out belly and your loose skin, it hits the heart a little closer than it would for a man. And you know, I would love to just sit at the table, drink a beer, burp and eat a fat burger with some onion rings on the side. I shouldn't feel ashamed of my gut. I should embrace my inner chub. As cliché as it sounds, the obesity rate in America is becoming outrageous.

Don't get me wrong, I don't expect you to go out and eat fast food daily, and completely deteriorate your body. However, as a woman who has gone from a size 10 to a size 16 back down to a 13 in the matter of three years, it's emotionally and physically exhausting. Don't you think that I already know I've put on some weight? I am not stupid. But I am also NOT ashamed.

I am not ashamed because I fell in love. I found someone to love me for me, pre-baby, and after-baby. I found someone to love me through my fatty farts from too much junk. Someone to love me for all the fruits and veggies I strictly ate to lose some of this baby weight. I am also not ashamed because I found someone who still touches my waist with passion just like he did the first day he met me, pre-gut and stretch marks.

I also am not ashamed because I, as a woman, made a human being. I stretched. I grew. I cried, I laughed.

You don't think I looked in the mirror every day as my stomach grew and each stretch mark popped up one by one?

You don't think I cried when my pants started not to fit and the number on the scale kept escalating?

Let me ask you this, have you as a man ever felt what it feels like to eat for two? No. Because you never will, it's physically impossible. You will never know what it feels like to be full one minute and be craving something else the next.

I went through countless emotions that lasted nine months, and even after those nine months, the emotions stuck around. My hormones still go on rampages, and sometimes I can be one crabby little bitch.

Consider how damn incredible we women are, and the constant crap we go through. We deserve a little more respect. I think the least a man could do, and even other women could do, for that matter, is accept everyone for who they are.

Accept their bodies. Accept their beautiful easel board that God has written on since the day they were born. Accept the bruises, the scars, the stretch marks, the extra fat.

I will take my mom bod any day over my 18-year-old body. I will take these stretch marks and flabby belly over my cute pierced-belly-button body. I am so blessed that my body was capable of holding this wonderful journey God has chosen to give me.

I am happy. I am a size 13. I have a couple of rolls when I sit, and I sure as hell don't grab the fruits every time I open the fridge. Instead I will grab what I want. I will live how I want to. I will show off my mom bod, every day. With pride. With hope that you as a woman/mom struggling with a mom bod too, will accept it for what it is.

Now seriously, go drink that glass of wine and have some ice cream. You deserve it. You can go on a walk tomorrow, but tonight, embrace it. F*cking own it, girl.