We had a long drive today – though man is it faster to drive through states than provinces – and I took the opportunity to catch up on some of my magazines.
Here is where I tell you – unsponsored – how much I like the Texture app for magazine reading on my iPad.
So I was catching up my magazine reading – like really catching up, post-grad school. I was reading an issue of Real Simple from about a year ago. Yeah.
There was an article in this particular issue about body image and how to help your kids have a good body image. The first part of the article was obvious. Don’t be hard on yourself or make comments about things you’re unhappy about, like how you hate your thighs or you feet are ugly, etc. And then the article said you should not use words like fat around your kids.
And that’s where they lost me.
Hi, I’m fat. I’m fat and aware of being fat and when I tell my daughter I want to exercise more or eat differently she knows that it’s to be more healthy, not to be less fat. Because, you see, fat is not a bad word, it’s not an insult. It’s just a word. It’s a way of being, like thin or tall. It’s a description.
I refuse to be afraid to use the word fat to describe myself because I refuse to teach my daughter that being fat is bad or that fat people are less than her.
My daughter is thin. She’s active and tall and thin. Sometimes I worry about her weight, I worry that she’s not eating enough, except that I know that she is because I’m the one she’s always asking for snacks. Someday someone will tell her she’s too skinny, or call her a beanpole or some such and she’ll feel ashamed.
Someday she’ll grow hips and breasts like mine and she’ll feel so different – foreign in her own body – and along with that will come more comments, more pressure, more appropriate words to use to describe herself.
If I do my job right she will be able to shake off those words.
I am curvy, I am plus sized, I am fat.
Also my feet are not ugly, they are great because I can pick things up with my toes, and so can she.