I look so fat.
I’ve said it plenty of times, though not as much lately, only because I’ve made a conscious effort to reserve those comments for when only my husband can hear. Lucky him.
Nope, this time it wasn’t me who uttered those words.
Oh no, that’s what my 6-year-old daughter said upon seeing a picture of herself with a group of kids. That, my friends, is my strong-willed, confident, worry-free, extrovert of a daughter. That’s my healthy, active, 6-year-old daughter, who is frequently caught fixing her hair and talking to her beautiful self in the mirror. Her comment left me completely speechless.
Was she just saying it because she’s heard other kids say it? Possibly. Was she testing me to see my reaction? Maybe. Regardless, her comment left me speechless, and that’s not OK.
Why didn’t I tell her she’s being ridiculous, at a minimum? And then follow that with how it doesn’t matter? And then follow that with commentary around the importance of how strong and confident you feel, not how you think you look. Or why didn’t I at least tell her that she was wearing a bathing suit that was a size too small? Or that she has a completely different build and she’s a different age than almost every other child in that picture? Why didn’t I say anything instead of saying silent?!?!?! And the worst part is that she’s not fat or insecure or typically affected by the looks of others. I’m telling you that she’s confident and she’s strong and she’s willing to try new things, even when she knows she might fail….and I’d give anything to have her strength on any given day. Why didn’t I just say something?
Ensuring that my daughters grow up to be confident, strong and self-believers is so important to me, but knowing how to do that it is a daily struggle. I am indescribably proud of all three of my daughters for so many reasons, but comments like that make me wonder where I faltered to allow room for that insecurity. How do you teach your children that as long as you feel strong and confident, you will look and feel beautiful? Sure, it has taken me 40 years, a singleton pregnancy, a multiples pregnancy and a recent Achilles tendon rupture recovery to finally accept that my body and mind are strong, and always have been, but how do I instill that thinking in them now at their young ages of 6 and 4?
Truly, I don’t know the answer, or if there is a right answer. And I still don’t know exactly what I should have said. As hard as I try not to make comments in front of them regarding how I look, I know I slip. And that’s OK. Maybe she was having one of those days. And that’s OK, too. But next time, I’ll know that saying anything positive in her moment of vulnerability is better than saying nothing at all.
