Fat talk has been part of my dialogue for as long as I can remember. I used to think that once I became a mom, I would easily break free from this habit. However, I quickly learned that quitting fat talk was far more challenging than I anticipated.
For years, I would often gaze into the mirror and mutter things like:
- Ugh, I feel so heavy today.
- Does this outfit make me look big?
- I can’t believe I ate so much cake—how gross am I?
- Is my stomach sticking out?
- I used to not have any cellulite. Look at it! Can you believe it?
My friends would join in, often escalating the competition. They would share their own perceived flaws, claiming their thighs were enormous or they could never wear certain styles. One friend even confessed her disdain for her knees!
This habit became a sort of sport among us. We had all been shaped by the same cultural expectations that told us to:
- Never accept a compliment without downplaying it—so, instead of saying “thank you,” we made self-deprecating comments.
- When a friend bemoaned her appearance, the right response was to point out how much worse our situation was.
My husband couldn’t bear to hear it anymore. Sometimes he would reassure me, calling me beautiful, but other times he would just shake his head and ask, “You’re not going to talk like this in front of our child, are you?” To which I would indignantly reply, “Of course not!”
But then my daughter was born, and I realized that stopping fat talk wouldn’t be as easy as I thought. Despite my best intentions to foster a positive body image in her, I struggled to change my own mindset.
I made excuses: “She’s too young to understand,” or “She can’t talk yet, so I have some time.” I convinced myself that as long as I praised her beautiful little body, she would be just fine. But the reality was, she was paying attention.
When she was just a few weeks old, I would lay her on the bathroom floor while I got ready. I often caught her watching my every move. At eight months, she imitated me blowing my nose, and by twelve months, she was rummaging through my bag for lip gloss. At fifteen months, she was dragging around the broom, and now at eighteen months, she’s trying on my shoes and mimicking my habits.
Her eyes are always on me, and I’m still making comments about my body—even if they happen less frequently now. I’d be lying if I said this change was due to newfound self-acceptance. In reality, it’s more about my current weight being the lowest it’s ever been. Still, I find myself lamenting changes like my post-baby body.
I want to embrace my beauty every day, even when I feel bloated or notice the lines around my eyes. More importantly, I want my daughter to see that it’s normal for women to love their bodies, regardless of imperfections.
I make an effort to limit my fat talk when she’s around. But I know that children can sense our insecurities, just as animals can smell fear. I thought motherhood would make body acceptance come naturally, but I’ve been reminded that it’s a continuous journey.
Body image remains a challenge for me, and hiding from it won’t solve anything. Instead, I need to confront it. This means avoiding negative comments in my daughter’s presence, encouraging her to explore my belly (as long as she’s not poking her fingers in my belly button), and even wearing a bikini at the pool, despite my discomfort.
Motherhood has taught me that it’s essential to navigate this journey as I go along. Nothing is as straightforward as we imagine it will be. If you’re seeking more insights on parenting and body image, check out this post on Modern Family Blog.
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In summary, breaking free from fat talk is a journey that requires mindfulness and self-acceptance. As I navigate this path, I hope to instill a sense of body positivity in my daughter, recognizing that our words and actions shape her understanding of self-worth.
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