Something I'll Never Say to My Girls

There are so many messages thrown at us each day. 

Buy this!
Avoid that!
This is sexy!
This is beauty!
This is healthy!
This is harmful!

From the commercials we watch, the ads we drive past, the magazines we read. If we sit back and really take it in, we realize we are truly bombarded. We are consumers. And every single thing we buy tells us something: about the way we eat, the way we sleep, the way we parent, the way we love, the way we live. Whether it's the ingredient list or the person pictured on the front, it is part of what forms our conscious (and subconscious) ideas, beliefs and perspectives about the world and about ourselves.

As a parent, I've come to simultaneously realize that we are bombarded with messages and that my daughters are sponges soaking up those messages. It's kind unnerving. If I innocently put on a TV show, the commercials between episodes tell my kids they need things.

Daughter: Mom! We have to buy a Stuf-It!
Me: A what?
Daughter: A Stuf-It!
Me: What's a Stuf-It?
Daughter: It's this stuffed animal thing that opens up and you stuff things inside it!
Me: First off, that's weird. Second, you've lived this long without a Stuf-It. I doubt that in the past 30 seconds it has become an actual need in your life.


It's not just commercials. It's the pictures of happy "healthy" kids they see plastered on sugary dye-filled fruit drinks. This message tells them that this drink makes you happy! And healthy! And not at all hyperactive! 

It's the radio ad (that I don't always have quick enough reflexes to turn off before it begins) about laser hair removal that will make you more beautiful. It's the ultra-thin models donning the outfits we are told to buy.It's the astoundingly short skirts marketed toward 6 year olds at Target.

But the loudest, most profound messages they hear most of all?

The ones coming straight from my mouth. 

I am so, so painfully aware that my little sponge girls pick up on everything I say. Whether it's the accidental curse word that flies after burning my hand on the stove or watching the kind of humor that makes me laugh - they note it. They start laughing at things that they've learned I consider funny. They say things like, "What the HECK?" after hearing one of our friends say it during a visit. 

Raising girls is tough in this world of messages. Boys too, for sure. And all these messages affect both genders alike. Being a girl myself, though, I know exactly how the messages we receive day in and day out affect females.  So while I can't catch everything that comes out of my mouth, there are certain things I refuse to ever allow to grace my tongue. I have vowed to never let my daughters hear me say:

Or any derivative sentiment: 

"I hate the way I look today."
"I need to go on a diet - look at me."
"I'll never look the way I did in college."
"Ug. I'm feeling ugly today."
"I can't eat this because I didn't go to the gym today."

I won't say these things. 

And friends, that isn't easy. 

Because, hello, I'm a woman. So you know I have my fair share of image issues. I struggle just like the rest of you with what I see in the mirror. I'm trying to change my own self-image, to embrace the beauty that is there in all of us. But I fail daily, and I am internally haunted by the thoughts that arise about how my jeans fit, how my hair is laying, and wondering why I can't get rid of the weird gross phantom hair that appears every few weeks on my cheek.

I wrestle with these thoughts and I'm working on processing them (and I'm becoming more victorious each day!), but I wrestle with them outside of earshot of my girls. Because I remember growing up and hearing the women in my life agonize over the person they saw in the mirror. I heard their disparaging remarks, the off-handed comments about their weight or looks, their defeat against self-worth.

And it affected me.

Everything is a learning process with children. They take the things they see and hear, and it helps them build and understanding of the world. As a child, when I heard those comments, it taught me to be critical of the way clothes fit, of the person I saw in the mirror. We all experienced comments like these as a kid, and whether we realize it or not, it was part of how we came to understand our own self-image. How we defined beauty and being healthy. This is the breeding ground of poor self-esteem, of eating disorders, and of a general distortion of what beauty and health truly are.

While it is hard sometimes, I speak only positively about myself in front of my girls. Because it won't be too long before they come up with the disparaging thoughts about themselves on their own. They'll hear their friends distress about their outfit or weight. They'll see some episode of a TV show where the girl struggles with anorexia. We censor curse words in front of our kids (or, ahem, try to), so shouldn't we watch how we express thoughts that could affect their self-esteem?

It's important that the main woman in my daughter's lives - ME -  is a role model. That when they hear me and see me, they see a woman who is working to think positively of herself, in the hopes that they'll learn to think positively about themselves too.  So it's all the more important for me to watch my words, because my girls, and all the young girls I know, need role models.

I let myself say out loud that I like my outfit today or the way my hair is falling. That I'm proud of myself tackling a new recipe. I eat my meals with them, so they see I eat healthy, well-rounded (and filling) meals. They watch me suit up for runs, so they know I enjoy being physically active. They hear me tell Hubby that I love him. 

And when I finally get dressed and ready for the day, I let them stand beside me in front of the mirror.  We assess ourselves, and I make sure to finish off my preparations with a smile. I want them to see me smiling at the person I see in the mirror. 

Each day, I'm embracing the beauty, worth and talent of the person in the mirror more and more. 

Their Eyes are Watching: What the Biggest Loser is Teaching Our Kids

I used to watch Biggest Loser every season. It was one of my favorite shows, and I so easily got caught up in the transformations. As a mom who was struggling to lose the baby weight from previous births, I was inspired to eat healthier and exercise more while I followed the contestants week after week.

I find it's difficult to talk about health and fitness on the public forum of media. We live in a culture of extremes: Obesity and overeating run as rampant as striving to be unrealistically thin and eating disorders. There is a fine line between encouraging people away from unhealthy lifestyles and fueling our society's obsession with getting skinny. When does someone cross the line from "losing weight to be healthy" and "weight loss gone awry?"

I think we are faced with this exact question on the recent Biggest Loser finale.

First, I will admit that I haven't been able to watch Biggest Loser for a couple seasons. Mainly because other shows conflicted with the time slot, and those shows won out.  Although I missed the finale, I was immediately alerted to the controversy over the the winner's weight loss. My friend Linzee posted some thoughts on Facebook and Twitter was ignited with #BLFinale tweets of concern.

Rachel, the winner, walked out on stage, waif-like and frail. Having dropped 60% of her body weight, from 260lbs to 105lbs, she was awarded the title of Biggest Loser. But not without fanfare. Trainers Bob and Jillian were visibly uncomfortable with the transformation, and stated they were not able to comment on Rachel's weight loss.

I've watched the video of the finale, and I, too, was taken back by the difference between images of Rachel when she started the show and the finale. Many have asked, What went wrong? And, yes, people are quick to judge. I agree with Rachel's trainer, Dolvett, when he said, "Please try not to look at one slice of Rachel's journey and come to broad conclusions." 

Because we weren't there. We don't know.

But we cannot pretend that impressionable eyes are not seeing this picture:

...And receive the message that this is what we, as a society, reward (with money, no less).

Our media sends so many mixed messages: 

"We are an obese nation!"
"We are obsessed with being skinny!"
"Fat is bad!"
"Skinny is bad!"
"Stop eating too much!"
"Stop eating too little!"

There is truth and falsehood in each of those statements. We, as Americans, have an unhealthy relationship with food. We either eat too much or too little. America is one of the most obese countries in the populated world (often vying for first position).  Yet, the girls (and boys) of our nation are struggling with eating disorders. Upwards of 10 million women suffer from an eating disorder. 

While I commend the Biggest Loser for bringing issues of obesity to the forefront and pushing the focus on fitness and healthy eating, they still put a price on it. They give it a monetary value, and they make it a competition. And, like, all reality television, it gives an unrealistic impression of weight loss. We live in extremes, and the results are extreme.

And all the while…

...Their eyes are watching.

Whose eyes?

Our nation's youth. Our kids see the above photo, and see fat and thin. They see unhealthy and healthy.  They see bad and good.  I am in no way here to "thin shame" (or "fat shame" for that matter). We are naturally all different shapes and sizes. What I am saying, though, is that we uphold the extremes and our kids don't receive the proper message: they don't realize that there is a very real in-between.

I have the very delicate and seemingly impossible task of raising two daughters. As a woman, I know the struggles they will face with self-worth, self-image, boys, friends, grades, and all the stressors that affect kids before they even enter college. I know they will struggle with feeling ugly. They will complain they are fat. Boys (or girls?) will break their hearts, friends will come and go. The messages I send to my girls daily, how I respond to the rough experiences they encounter, will be part of shaping their confidence and self-esteem. 

Because whether I say anything or not, other messages are ready to knock on their door.

Once I was alerted to the BL controversy, I took to Google to get the scoop. I was almost immediately met with a result that broke my heart:







Just under "Biggest Loser" breaking news was a search result for a pro-ana (pro-anorexia) forum. There was an entire thread of women who found, as they call it, thinspiration in Rachel's transformation. 

As I read through the comment thread, my stomach sank as these users sought out how to make Rachel's reality their reality.

Each of the anonymous users have their height and weight, as well as goal weights, in their profiles. Some of the goal weights made me sad.

These are mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, friends. People we most likely know somewhere in our lives. Some, I'm certain, are just girls. I want to hug each and every one of them. I want to tell them they are beautiful just the way they are. I want to save them from the inevitable destruction that will follow from these unfulfilling passions.

Yet, here they are.

And so our the girls of our nation.

Their eyes are watching.

Watching for what the media tells us is good, what the world tells us is beauty. Tormenting themselves over the number on the scale, the natural rolls of their hips and breasts, the healthy curves to the backs of their arms. Longing for sharper angles, thinner profiles.

Their eyes are watching the mirror, the scale, and, most importantly, the eyes watching them. What stories they spin within their heads of what others are thinking of them, judgements never actually cast.  When they are older their eyes will watch the internet, and I hope they never find comfort in dark places full of untruth.

Their eyes are watching us. How we perceive our images in the mirror, how we eat (or not eat) our food. How we speak of our own bodies and beauty. Their eyes are watching how we love (or do not love) ourselves.  

My girls. My girls are watching me. Every day. And every day, I tell them I love them. I tell them I am proud of them. I tell them they are beautiful, inside and out. I commend them on their creativity, their reading skills, when they bravely try something new. 


Their eyes are watching, their ears are listening, their hearts are taking it all in. Do they see me eating a healthy breakfast? Or skipping to "save calories?" Do they see me cringe when I look in the mirror? Or smile at what I see? Do they hear me complain about "how fat I am?" Or do they hear me speak positively about my body? 

As I mother, I owe it not only to myself but to my girls, to strive every day to love myself.  I strive to eat healthy, and I teach my girls to love real food (with some treats thrown in there from time to time!). I strive to show them a woman who is strong, who stays active because she loves it, not because she is afraid of what will happen to her body if she doesn't.  

I strive to show them a woman who fails, but learns from her failures. Who falls, but always gets back up. Who embraces the fact that she'll never be perfect, and never lets that be an excuse to not try.

I strive to show them a woman who is not defined by the image in the mirror, but rather the character of her heart.

Their eyes are watching.

And I hope my girls see all the right things so one day when they come across this disparity of truths...

...They have the right messages to stay the course; to own their beauty and worth.