Parenting
I’m plus-sized. My daughter is plus-sized. We’re two fabulous individuals, and guess what? We’re pretty darn awesome.
But it wasn’t always this way. Before my daughter was born, I found myself pleading, “Please, universe, don’t let my daughter be a mini version of me.” Apparently, my wishes went unheard.
Hence, this plus-sized woman took it upon herself to be the mother she wished she’d had—a parent who didn’t care about appearances, weight, or societal pressures. I resolved to be the kind of mom who would combat negativity with a well-prepared arsenal of positivity.
First, I had to demonstrate that being plus-sized isn’t a dirty little secret. This might seem like a monumental task, but it wasn’t. I simply embraced my identity as a regular mom who happens to be plus-sized. I walked around comfortably in my own skin, refrained from self-deprecating comments, and refused to bond with other women over weight loss or body dissatisfaction.
I took selfies like a plus-sized influencer; for me, that level of self-love was revolutionary. I wanted my daughter to see that I was valuable, and every step I took radiated confidence instead of shying away from my size as if I owed anyone an apology for existing.
Throughout her life, I’ve never dieted or discussed dieting in front of my daughter. My mom, bless her, has been on a diet since I was born. I’ve never seen a single gray hair on her dyed head or a wrinkle on her face—dieting was her constant companion.
Growing up, my mother obsessively critiqued celebrities’ fluctuating weights. “Back to the fat farm,” she would say about a star, as casually as one might say “hello.” As a child, I wasn’t worried about ending up at a “fat farm”—I was more curious about what it entailed. Did they serve chocolates? Or was it more like a dystopian nightmare? I eventually concluded it was probably more about liposuction than a spa day.
While my childhood may have set a low bar, I made sure to avoid discussing “fat farms” with my daughter. You take the wins where you can, right?
However, my body positivity philosophy was truly tested one day when my daughter returned home from school as a little second grader. It’s one thing to teach confidence in a safe environment, but once your child enters the outside world, you confront the harsh realities: Do you reinforce their self-acceptance, or do you shy away from it?
I chose to reinforce.
“Mom, do I have a pregnant belly? This kid said I look like I’m going to have a baby.”
There was a moment of silence that felt like an eternity before I replied, “Yes, yes you do. And I do too, and we’re both awesome!”
I hoped my history of being a confident woman would support this moment; that the foundation of self-love I had built brick by brick was solid. I wanted my daughter to assess my “awesomeness” and determine if I was being genuine or just offering empty words.
Denying her body would have been deceitful and left her feeling powerless. The best way to combat cruelty is to arm yourself with a strong “so what!” attitude, but it has to stem from a genuine belief that there’s nothing wrong with you in the first place.
If your plus-sized child is going to thrive, validating their body is crucial, so they can deflect hurtful comments. Then you let them proudly navigate the world. My daughter, towering over her classmates, won every arm-wrestling match. “Your size is power,” I’d tell her, and I meant every word.
However, adults can be a real challenge, especially school nurses with their “well-meaning” concerns. Every new school year, I had to prepare to tackle the absurdity of weigh-ins and diabetes prevention recommendations, and I often found myself wishing for the school bully instead.
I made it clear on health forms that my child was not to be weighed—she has a pediatrician for that. No, we don’t require health fairs to learn how to cook “healthy” meals, and no, she does not have diabetes. And if I receive one more “BMI letter of shame,” I swear I’ll lose it!
In our home, we labeled BMI appropriately as “Bullshit Myth Indicator”—there are unhealthy bodies of all sizes. Simply looking at someone doesn’t grant you a medical degree, nor does reading a chart of numbers.
This may sound like I was a pretentious parent, but I was determined to fill my child with self-confidence that the world often tries to undermine. I refused to let it be dismantled by glorified clipboards.
Now, we wait to see if a cycle has been broken. My partner and I have raised a kind child who empathizes with others and seems comfortable in her own skin. I can’t know what’s in her heart, but I want to trust that what she presents is genuine. If not, I hope she feels she can be honest with me, and we can navigate it together.
This article offers a perspective on body positivity and parenting that is both unique and empowering. For more insights about pregnancy and home insemination, check out this post on intracervicalinsemination.com. Additionally, for those exploring fertility options, Make A Mom provides valuable resources. You can also visit Resolve for excellent information on family-building options.
Summary
The article discusses the journey of a plus-sized mother raising a plus-sized daughter, emphasizing body positivity and self-acceptance. The author shares her experiences in fostering confidence in her daughter despite societal pressures and challenges from adults. It serves as a reminder of the importance of validation and self-love in parenting, particularly for children who may face criticism about their size.