Dear Mom Who Talks About Her Body

Dear Mom Who Talks About Her Body,

I am guessing that you probably grew up hearing your mom talk about her body. If she’s like most women, she probably talked a lot about her weight—being unhappy with her weight, needing to lose weight, or any other topic variant about her weight.

Maybe she made comments about other women’s bodies, about what they were wearing, what they “shouldn’t be wearing,” or some other disparaging remark. Perhaps your mom had her own idea of clothes she “couldn’t” wear.

It’s possible she reminisced about how thin or fit she used to be or how great she used to look.

The comments about her loose skin, cellulite, stretch marks, or other normal human body characteristics were abundant.

You watched her go on diets. You watched her shake up liquid meals. You watched her exercise, but not for fun or health or stress relief—just for weight loss.

Did she avoid having her picture taken? Or did she balk at a photo of herself?

Did you stand next to her in the kitchen as she spoke critically about her body to other women, friends, aunts, cousins?

If you were like most daughters, you probably looked up at your mom with wide eyes and saw only beauty. And you wondered, if she saw herself this way, then what was wrong with you?

Maybe at a young age, you looked down at your own body with thoughts mirroring your mother’s—reasoning that if all these beautiful women needed to lose weight, you probably should too. (If you were especially “lucky,” maybe your mom played into these thoughts you had about yourself instead of reassuring you.)

And as your body changed in adolescence, gaining weight and shape in the places all women do, you probably struggled. Other girls around you had bigger boobs, thinner legs, smaller stomachs. You started comparing yourself to your peers the same way the older women did.

It’s likely you started to engage in the same negative body talk with your friends as you had heard all growing up. That’s just what women do.

Your next step, if not during adolescence, then during adulthood, was to start dieting. Other people praised you for your efforts, for the weight you lost, for the hard work you were putting in. You skipped all your favorite foods or cut out major food groups. Not knowing enough about the body or nutrition or complex food relationships, you couldn’t keep doing what you were doing, so you quit. You regained the weight you lost, and probably a little bit more. And thus started the cycle you’d continue well into adulthood—the cycle of hunger and praise and progress and plateaus. Rinse and repeat.

After all your body changes, your body may have blessed you with a child. Your body grew and birthed an entire human, and probably transformed in the process. And all during pregnancy, you heard the noise about how to “lose the baby weight,” and instead of feeling grateful for your stretching, growing body, you felt uncomfortable and insecure. You felt the pressure.

And even after your body fed and grew that little baby, your feelings from early adolescence lingered, reminding you that your size, your weight, your stretch marks, your sagging skin, your deflated breasts, your widened hips, were all things that should be changed whether by sacrifice or by surgery.

Throughout your entire life, no matter the price you paid or how much weight you lost, you just never could feel satisfied with what your body did or how it looked. Even when you reached a goal, it wasn’t enough. Self-love was not a part of your programming.

But then you started hearing the whispers.

You’ve started hearing them call from far away: “It’s OK to love yourself how you are now!”

And as you listened a little more closely, over time, the whispers turned into shouts:

It’s OK to wear the bathing suit!

It’s OK to eat well and exercise without a weight loss goal!

It’s OK to get the boudoir photos taken now!

It’s OK to enjoy your life in your current body!

It’s OK not to discuss your body with other people!

And the cheers, though loud and powerful, still took a while to sink in after a lifetime of being told otherwise, of hearing the lies. The lies that said you can only love yourself after you change yourself. Be anyone but who you are. Look any way but how you do.

But you decided that the pattern would stop here. It would stop with you.

Dear Mom who Talks About Her Body: their little ears are hearing you. Their eyes are watching you.

Let them hear you talk about eating delicious, nutritious foods. Let them see you eat all foods.

Let them hear you talk about how strong your body is. Let them see you move your body.

Let them hear you talk about amazing women around you. Let them see you be kind to others.

Let them hear you talk about the cute outfit you just got. Let them see you wear it.

Let them hear you talk about when you feel beautiful. Let them see you in front of the camera.

Let them hear you talk about your passions. Let them see you living your life.

Let them hear you talk about yourself the way you want them to think about themselves:

Strong.
Brave.
Smart.
Kind.
Determined.
Confident.
Creative.
Healthy.
Active.
Powerful.