“Mom! Come here!” my daughter calls from the upstairs bathroom, and I rush up expecting the worst—a potential drowning in the bathtub—but instead find my five-year-old, Lucy, standing on a stool, admiring her reflection in the mirror while clad in her favorite underwear.
“I tilted it down, and now I can see my whole body!” she exclaims, twisting and smiling at her reflection. She flexes her arm and beams, “Look at my muscles! I’m super strong!”
In that moment, to me, she embodies perfection, and it’s clear she feels the same way about herself.
However, I can’t shake the unsettling thought that one day, someone will tell her she’s not perfect. A wave of anger rises within me at the thought of some misguided individual shattering her self-esteem. They could point out that her feet are too big or criticize her for having her father’s nose. They might suggest that she should eat more because of her slender frame, or eat less because of her little thighs. It terrifies me to think someone could alter the way she sees herself forever.
As she twirls in front of the mirror, I can’t help but wonder who might be the one to deliver such harsh judgments. She has a circle of friends at school, and some of them have older siblings—could it be one of them? Right now, their biggest worry seems to be the drama of “I won’t be your best friend ever again,” a problem typically resolved within a day. Critiquing each other’s looks doesn’t seem to be part of their vocabulary just yet.
It’s not the television either. Characters like Dora dress in practical clothes, while Caillou is just a boy, and even Minnie Mouse keeps her shape under wraps. I doubt the insidious body image issues will come from the screen.
I walk over to my beautiful child and give her a hug. “Look at us, Mommy!” she says, gesturing toward the mirror. I find myself absentmindedly tugging at the grays in my hair. As she poses and plays, I can’t help but notice the bags under my eyes and the lines on my forehead. When I hear her giggle, I turn to see her mimicking my silly faces. Then she looks at me and declares, “Mommy, you’re beautiful.”
In that moment, I realize—I’m the one perpetuating the negativity. I’m the one who introduces her to society’s narrow definitions of beauty. I’ve been the one to sigh over my arm fat when she asks me to flex, or complain about my size when she suggests I wear something flattering. I’m the one who might teach her that her perception of beauty is somehow flawed.
“I want to grow up and look just like you, Mommy,” she says, and I’m struck by how differently she sees me. She doesn’t see a tired, self-critical mother; she sees a vibrant, loving figure who protects her and fills her world with affection.
Determined, I mentally purge those negative thoughts. I will not be the one who undermines her confidence or subjects her to the endless stream of judgments I battle daily. Tomorrow, I will start fresh, reminding her that we are beautiful, and I will continue doing so until I believe it as deeply as she does. Someday, someone might tell her she isn’t perfect, but I promise that person won’t be me.
If you’re interested in exploring more about self-image and motherhood, check out this insightful post on Cervical Insemination. Additionally, for those considering home insemination, Make A Mom offers reliable at-home insemination kits. For comprehensive information on pregnancy and related topics, the CDC is an excellent resource.
In summary, as mothers, we hold the power to shape our children’s self-image. It’s crucial to foster an environment where they feel confident and beautiful, free from the societal pressures that often distort their perception of themselves.
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