My youngest child has developed a delightful obsession with my belly. It serves as his sanctuary, a source of comfort and warmth. Whenever he gets hurt, I scoop him up, and he burrows into my chest and belly. He gently places his tiny hand on my soft skin and joyfully declares, “I rub you belly,” with a sparkle of happiness in his eyes.
When he craves some quality time with me, he often slips his hand beneath my shirt to rest on my stomach. He loves examining it, playing with it, jumping on it, and even using it as a pillow. Essentially, as long as he can connect with it, he feels at peace. Recently, while sitting on my lap, he proclaimed, “Your belly my home.” (My heart melted.)
It’s true. My belly was a home for all three of my children, and in many ways, it still feels like their home.
It’s amusing how my children cherish my belly, while I have mixed feelings about it. The aspects they adore are often the very things I struggle with. I sometimes dislike:
- The softness of my belly.
- The rolls that appear when I sit down.
- The stretch marks I’ve earned.
- The way it can squish together, creating an unflattering appearance.
These are the things society suggests I should change, traits that make my stomach less than ideal. And honestly, some days, I find myself agreeing with those societal standards.
I exercise regularly and strive to care for my body, but no amount of crunches can erase the loose skin that remains after carrying my three children (two of whom were twins). There are certain things about my body that simply cannot be altered, and while I don’t always love them, I sometimes feel self-conscious when I dwell on these aspects.
Yet, each day, my children remind me that I am beautiful. To them, I am flawless. My imperfect belly was their sanctuary, and my so-called flaws bring them comfort. They are oblivious to the cellulite and the rolls that appear when I sit. They don’t see the things I fret over; they only see me, their mother.
It can be challenging to hold onto the beauty that our children perceive within us when we have become so accustomed to society’s narrow standards of beauty and perfection. It’s tough to remember that our worth isn’t tied to our appearance but rather to the love and kindness we carry in our hearts, especially when inundated with messages that suggest otherwise.
Despite the difficulties, I am determined to trust my children’s views over those of the world, including my own critical thoughts.
We need to start embracing the truths we share with our little ones, which we often forget to apply to ourselves. Would we ever dream of saying the harsh things we tell ourselves to our children? Imagine how heartbroken we would be if we heard our kids speaking negatively about themselves the way we do.
Yet, that’s what happens if we’re not careful. Our children are absorbing our attitudes and beliefs. They learn from us about what beauty means, and when they witness us disparaging our bodies, they begin to internalize those negative messages.
When they see a mother they adore calling herself ugly or fat, they might think, “If she believes that about herself, what must she think of me?” This creates a conflict within them, as they hold one belief about their mother’s perfection while receiving an entirely different message from her. Our daughters may mimic our negative views, while our sons could start altering how they perceive women.
Beauty standards are often taught first at home. If we overheard our children criticizing their bodies in the way we do, it would feel like a dagger to our hearts. We would rush to defend them, countering any negative thoughts with all the positive and beautiful truths we see in them.
We would go to great lengths to ensure they never felt that way about themselves—not because we’re being unreasonable, but because we recognize their inherent worth, flaws and all—just as they see us.
Let’s stop disputing our children’s perceptions of our beauty. Let’s not tell them they are wrong for thinking we are perfect just as we are. Let’s refrain from unintentionally conveying that they too are flawed and must change.
Instead, let’s start believing the same truths we tell our little ones about our own beauty. Let’s view our imperfect bodies, with their soft spots and extra rolls, as homes to our most cherished beings. Let’s celebrate our bodies for the miraculous life-giving vessels they are, and let go of society’s unrealistic ideals.
In our children’s eyes, we are perfect. They don’t distinguish between body parts until we teach them to.
So let’s stop that cycle. Let’s love ourselves the same way we love our children, and the way they love us in return.
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Summary
This article reflects on how a child’s innocent love for their parent’s body can teach valuable lessons about self-acceptance and beauty. It encourages parents to embrace their imperfections and instills in children the importance of seeing beauty beyond societal standards. Ultimately, it calls for a shift in perspective, urging parents to love themselves as their children do, fostering a healthier body image for future generations.