Sometimes I feel like the task at hand is larger than I even have a chance at tackling. Like I can try as hard as I can and it'll all be for nothing anyways. Know why? Because I have a daughter. I have one gloriously wild, absolutely female, tough as nails daughter. Right now her self esteem is optimum. When I say "You are SO beautiful" she says "I know, thank you." And I LOVE IT. She can conquer the world and right NOW she knows that.
But in 2 more years, she will start being someone other than with me more than she's with me. This is traumatic for me. Lots of parents go through this when their babies are 6-12 weeks old and they put them in daycare so they can go to work again. She will be surrounded by her "friends" and ideas from them-and certainly not all of them will have self esteem worth holding on to at the time. I can only hope that what is in there now has been cemented in, firmly, and can't be shaken.
We girls grow up with so much shit bombarding us, it's ridiculous. If it isn't the women in the magazines who are flawless and skinny, then it's the TV where we get to see it again, but this time in real life, moving and talking. It does nothing for men, either, because it would seem that men WANT THIS. Have you watched a man in public? Oh, he's looking. Not that he SHOULDN'T be, but it's who he's looking at, and how. People watching is probably in my top 5, but I'm not checking out who's skinny or pretty. Men are visual creatures. How are we suposed to compete with perfection? Have you seen the movies? Okay, some movies feature someone "real" and they are called chubby or fat or there's a news story about how they had to gain 25 pounds to be in it. What have we done?
And what's crazy is that most girls honestly don't see themselves correctly. We would literally draw a completely different picture than what's real. I learned that in treatment. It was the very first time that I saw it with my own two eyes. I was much smaller when I laid inside the picture I'd drawn. So ever since then I try as hard as I can do go with what Cullen says because he can SEE me. I can't see me sometimes. If I've been eating well and been active, I think I can see me. But it takes one box of Italian Nachos from Old Chicago and I am certain that I am out of control large. Or how about what a girl goes through when she's going to drink a non diet soda or a cappuccino or ...take your pick. Who did that? How did we let so much of that in, that it's just IN? That it's just a part of who we are?
That is a part of why it's easier for me to focus on other people. When we are doing a food drive or ANYTHING that requires focus and attention, I am reminded that the world doesn't really care that much about *me* and what jean size I currently fit into, and that there are TONS of people who are MUCH worse off than we are. MUCH WORSE. And it puts the stupid body image back in check.
It's not always bad, now that I really think about it, but I (maybe from being formerly eating disordered) have to put some effort into it not getting out of control. Sometimes it isn't so easy when Cullen lost 80 pounds and NEEDS to run or he turns into Mr. Cranky Pants. Spring time it's harder, I've noticed...because people are shedding clothes....and summer is harder because I am NOT 20 anymore. Or even 24. No, I'm 33 and I've had 4 babies. I defer to Cullen again, because he swears, and he does a pretty swell job of showing me, that he loves every difference in my body and prefers it now to how it was. Plus, I have to tell you, my body is so fricken cool there are no words for it. FOUR of the most beautiful souls planted themselves in my body, and my body knew exactly what to do with them. It nourished them as they grew and kept them safe, and when it was time for them to be born...my body took care of that too. It's AWESOME. And now look at me! I can live without a uterus, or a gall bladder and soon I get to live without a kidney. And my body will heal from that surgery and make up for the missing kidney. Bodies are SUCH a work of art. But then my very skinny sister says she's fat, and we're told that America is so fat (not that it's not but it's impossible to take that personally when you are faced with size 1's everywhere you look), and there are these little things walking around, to be noticed, and they are....and here we are again. The war.
There is a way to end it. I know that. All I have to do, to take one person out of the war, is stop paying it attention. Which I do, often enough. But it should be permanent.
And I want to keep Julia from falling in the trap at all. :) Good luck, me.
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