“I’m Scarlett, with the chubby cheeks!”
My three-year-old daughter beamed the self-compliment she’d so often heard me bestow on her, and it caught me off guard: So far from the way I speak unkindly about my own perceived chubbiness, she believed– because I told her– that her feature most readily distinguishable from her identical twin was her chubby cheeks, and they were delightful and beautiful. And they are.
But I reeled at the thought that I was speaking this word to her, this word that would some day not come so kindly from her sweet face, and I reeled at the thought that I cannot delight in my own body the way she still can. She will learn from me. And it occurred to me that none of my daughters has a single female role model around who really loves her body and delights in its beauty. We lash ourselves with mean words and harsh diets. And they will hear and see.
And so I decided to stop. Or at least to mightily try.
I kept in my medicine cabinet a bottle of diet pills that my doctor gave me when I went to see him about fixing the mess twin babies had made of my middle. I had wanted to discuss the saggy skin and blown-out muscles, but he convinced me it might just do the trick to lose five to ten pounds. And I was within the normal weight range for a woman my height, but that hit to self-confidence was all it took, and I took the awful pills.
They made my heart race, and I felt like fat, ugly shit. But they were my last resort. So I stopped the pills but I kept them close, and I threatened myself I’d bring them back out if I couldn’t get it together.
But Scarlett, she has gorgeous chubby cheeks, and hell if I’ll teach her to hate them. And from my grandmother to my mother to the ones I love like sisters, we’re all messed up about our bodies, and we are handing our legacy to our girls. So we made a trade, my dear friend and me, emptied our tight fists of last resorts so that we could hold hands and walk toward health together.
And we will make a new legacy.
This is what it comes to:
We were made to be more than “skinny.”
We can find strength in humility…
and beauty from ashes.
And the empty tomb means something in real life.
***
I am thrilled to announce today’s release of my friend Emily Wierenga’s important book, Chasing Silhouettes: How to help a loved one battling an eating disorder.
Thanks once again, Tamara. As you know, my daughter with the beautiful body is 14, and she, too, does not have a single female role body around who really loves her body and delights in its beauty. This has bothered me for years. I have begged them to stop making calorie count and weight gained/lost the subject of every family meal conversation, but to no avail. And I have passed along more than my fair share of issue. And my 14-year-old daughter, with the beautiful, perfect, tall, lean, dancer’s body, also hates her body. Sigh.
Fantastic. We never appreciate what we had until is is gone. I’m almost 45. For the first time, the lines and wrinkles are bothering me. Really bothering. Like I aged too much this year. Or something. I know people say its evidence if character, or that I’ve smiled a lot — the crows feet at the corners of my eyes. There are no pills to fix these things. Nothing to grind up or throw away. I think I’ll have to work harder at looking a little less in the mirror, maybe.
Such a small gesture, such mammoth meaning. I wish other mothers would take this as seriously–I talk with so many girls who still harbor words like “chubby” for themselves and are ashamed because their mothers suggested such words once upon a time.
oh girl. sharing this. thank you. and so moved by your story… i absolutely cannot wait to meet you in october. xoxo
It’s so hard for women to love their bodies when they’re bombarded by images of sticks who likely don’t even menstruate anymore. What also frustrated me earlier this week was Ralph Lauren’s plus-sized model. She’s gorgeous. And she’s 6’2″ and size 12. Marilyn Munro was more plus-sized t han she. And this is progress?
But you, my friend, are making progress, for you, for your girls, and for girls everywhere.
(Here’s the link to the Ralph Lauren story: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/19/robyn-lawley-plus-size-ralph-lauren-model_n_1897703.html)
Yes! You are beautiful. Why is that so hard to believe? I don’t know, but it’s far too common a problem. Look in genesis. Everything God made, he said, “Wow, that’s cool!” Nowhere do I see an “Oops!”
Ask God to show you how he sees you. When you see the glory, how you were made in his image, this will cease to be an issue. Praying for you, that it happens soon. I know the taste of those bitter pills.
Oh I know this fight, and the bitch inside my head doesn’t play fair. I hear my 9 year old tell me she’s fat, and it breaks my heart. She needs to be skinny so she can be a rock star because Hannah Montana has been a louder influence than I. But I can change this. Love this, love you, T.
This is my favorite support site in the “fight”- http://endfattalk.org/
I’m reading a book by Brene Brown (I first heard of her from TED talks — she spoke on vulnerability) in which she talks about the number one model for our kids is not how or what we say about them and their bodies, it’s what we say about our OWN bodies. I have four nieces and I want them to grow up comfortable in their bodies — I’m only recently realizing how much I picked up from my mom on how she felt about her body (and just writing that I feel so disloyal because there were so many things my mom did great, but maybe not this one). Loved the pictures with this post.
Love this, and love roadkillrus’ comment too. I’ll have to work on that.
As a teen, I was ultra-skinny, and that wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t until I met a wonderful man who continually told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me just the way I was that I began to see the truth and was healed of those hurts and memories. (BTW, that man was Mr. Roadkill of roadkillrus fame!) We ladies need to begin believing the people in our lives who tell us they see our beauty; the truth WILL set us free!
Good for you, and those pills don’t really work without diet and exercise anyway.
Powerful, Tamara. And true. And good, too. Such a good thing to do. I heard so.many.comments from my mom and my aunt about hating their bodies, about how fat they were – that I just decided to join them. In the hating department. And then it became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy and then it became a suit of armor. Enough already. At 16 my body was perfect. And my mom took me to the doctor who prescribed all sorts of little colored pills. At SIXTEEN. When I was just fine. Could not see it then – how we need to tell our girls over and over that they are just fine. (and we need others who are not their mothers to tell them that too – over and over again, because when it comes to positive things about us, we tend not to believe our moms. We might believe others.)
BTW, I love the photos and captions. Perfect imagery.
So true! Thank you, thank you! I love my curves and I am trying to raise my daughter to love her body as well- just as God made her.
Pingback: Friday Faves - [IMG] Insert Image
Pingback: Pre-Vacation Links! « The Nest Egg
Thank you !
Grateful for you and your courage! I pray the new life you find is vibrant and filled with wonder and that your twins cannot help but soak it up, instead of the generational negativity. Thank you for sharing!
You on a diet? Why? no need…
You destroyed diet pills? GOOD FOR YOU!
Nice Job ! And i guess one should even wary of the advertisements which show real people in before/after pictures in lieu of scientific proof of the product as now a days everyone are aware of photo shop and air brushing, haven’t you?