Dear Lily,
I hope I never have to share this letter with you. My greatest wish is to instill in you the importance of self-acceptance before insecurities accumulate like bricks. I want you to always seek beauty in everything, especially within yourself.
I hope that no young man will ever make you feel the need to lose weight, and that no advertisement will convince you that you must wear makeup to be truly beautiful. It pains me to think of you ever uttering phrases like “I’m too overweight” or “I’m not attractive enough.”
I hope self-criticism doesn’t become a regular part of your life.
This is your 28-year-old mama speaking. Just seven months after your arrival into this world, I’m grappling with my post-baby body. In my mind, I know I still look fine. I remind myself that my body is remarkable for carrying you for nine months and nurturing you since birth. Yet, when I glance in the mirror, I often feel defeated. On particularly tough days, I feel completely shattered.
You see, I have always struggled with insecurities about my appearance. Before I became pregnant, I had easy fixes. If I felt bloated, I’d go on a crash diet. If my look felt stale, a trip to the salon would revitalize me. Quick solutions were always at hand.
But pregnancy reveals vulnerabilities. No outfit can disguise a 15 (or perhaps even 25?) pound weight increase. No lotion can erase those angry red stretch marks.
Honestly, I’m weary of my own insecurities. It’s draining to continuously compare myself to others. There will always be someone who is prettier, younger, or seemingly better in some way. There’s always a slender mother, a glamorous mom, someone who doesn’t even seem like a mother at all.
I worry you might notice how I frown when stepping on the scale or how I sift through countless outfits to find one that conceals my belly. How can I teach you about beauty when I struggle with self-acceptance?
In my current state of vulnerability, I consciously reflect on what I want to impart to you about beauty and the female form. As your mother, I see this as one of my greatest challenges in raising you, my lovely daughter.
You have no idea how much your presence helps me challenge my own negative thoughts. You look at me with such admiration. I will use this as a foundation for building my own positive self-image, so when you come to me with questions about weight, beauty, flaws, and insecurities, I can respond with sincerity and love.
My aspiration for you is to enjoy every moment and not miss out simply because you believe you “don’t look your best.”
Please explore sports, martial arts, or dance. Savor making sandcastles in your swimsuit. Relish the delicious fried chicken your father will lovingly prepare for you. Don’t panic if you see the scale inch up a pound. Accept compliments graciously and believe them wholeheartedly. My beloved, these are the lessons I want to learn for myself right now, and embodying them will help me teach you.
If I ever need to share this letter with you in the future, I hope it’s for the purpose of helping you understand that not all women feel confident in their bodies. I hope you become a source of empowerment for other women. Always strive to recognize the beauty in those around you. Rather than competing, lift them up just as you are uplifting me now.
Thank you for being you. I love you always,
Mom