Today I was reduced to tears by a post on my daughter's blog. It gave me an insight into my daughter that I can't say that I never knew about, as I did know about some of it, and suspected a lot of it. As a mom, I wonder if there was something I could have done to make it easier for her: I often wonder that about both my children, you know, are there things I could have done, said, etc. to prepare them better for life? I guess mom's always want to spare their children pain, and wish they had done a better job of parenting. Or maybe it's just me.
And, I wonder if my problems with MY self-image were somehow passed on to my daughter, whether genetically or by my actions.
I thought I would share where I am coming from, and why I think I may have had something to do with her lack of a good self-image. When I was about 8, I got fat. I was never obese, but was what my mother smilingly called (and oh, how I hated it!) "pleasantly plump". When I wore shorts, they would ride up between my legs because my thighs rubbed together (you've all see the fat kids that looked like this, haven't you?). My classmates teased me unmercifully: "Fatty, fatty 2 by 4, can't get through the bathroom door, so she did it on the floor!" Ever heard that one? I did. Alot. I was already kind of shy, and so I retreated from making friends. (Fortunately, I did have one best friend - oddly, she was the tall, skinny misfit). My mother sent me to Girl Scout camp (I was a Brownie) when I was 8 or 9, hoping I guess that I would get some exercise, make new friends, etc. My mother was a single mom with 3 daughers, so I am sure this was a stretch for her on her teacher's salary. I had only one set of "Brownie" shorts and t-shirt. All the girls in my cabin had a set for every day of the week, and remarked to me 'You only have ONE?!?". I wanted to crawl under my cot. At swimming they had a buddy system - everyone had to have a partner to swim with. The counselers had to ASSIGN me a buddy every day. Nobody wanted to buddy with the shy fat kid. I was SO glad when that week was over! Same thing happened at school in PE with softball, basketball, or whatever -- always chosen last, and grudingly. Somewhere around 7th grade, I think, my mom insisted that I join the basketball team. I sat on the bench for every game. Once they put me in at the end, when the game was won.
Even though I slimmed down when I got my growing spurt, I was still heavier than my friends, and always, always, thought of myself as fat. Even though I ended up with a wonderful husband, two great children, and in my 40's began a challenging career, inside I was always the shy fat kid. To some degree I still am. I have struggled to overcome the shyness -- I sometimes have to force myself to connect with people - and most of my friends now don't see me that way. But it was hard. I have always struggled with my weight. At one point in my 50's I was actually obese, tipping the scales at 208! Now, finally, I am 78 pounds lighter (after some yoyo-ing), but still struggling, and still thinking of myself as, if not fat, still too heavy. Just 5 more pounds! Please? But I have declared this my last diet! Geez, I'm old enough, don't you think? From now on I will eat right, and exercise, and maintain a healthy weight, and not obsess about it. I hope....
So did I pass this self-image thing on to my daughter? Did she pick up on my agaonizing in front of the mirror over the years, and internalize it? If I did contribute to her problems, then I apologize, profusely. Perhaps it was just her karma, and the fact that she got her dad's tall genes instead my short ones. One difference is that she was always tall, slim, and beautiful, but just didn't see herself that way. I actually WAS fat, in between the slimmer times. But now I am just glad to see her happy and if not "over it", much better than before. I think her "Candyman" has a lot to do with that! My hat is off to my strong, beautiful daughter!
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It's not your fault! From the plethora of comments I have gotten on that post, I think that it's just a female thing. No one to blame, just something we all struggle with regardless of our shape or size. Everyone has their "thing." I was talking to Sharon about this at lunch yesterday and she showed me her nose - it looks totally different from different angles - one angle being not so good. She will actually position herself while speaking to people so as not to show the unattractive side. Obsessive? Sure, bout about as much as me sitting with my legs clenched so that my thighs look thinner. We're all crazy. :)
ReplyDeleteYes, it must be a girl thing. No - actually I think it is a people thing. A rite of passage that some seem to pass through more easily than others, I guess. Judging by all the kids I've talked to, with boys the issues are a little different, but still there. Male bullying is more overt - physical and scary. And the boys who feel inadequate attract big bullies. Yikes!
ReplyDeleteAnyway, like Louise said, even the most popular, attractive, and accomplished kids (and grown ups) I talked with had issues similar to those you and Louise have mentioned. Sort of like same song second verse - and third, fourth, fifth verse. I heard the story over and over again. And again. For years. Boobs too little, boobs too big, hips too big, no fanny (I wish), too tall, too short, too skinny, too.....whatever. Not smart enough, unlikeable, pimples, limp hair, curly hair - and so on. And then there were all the family issues - divorced parents, step parents, etc. Everyone has something.
I don't want to minimize the way you felt, but remember - we AlL went to scout camp. Mother later told me it was because camp was the best way for her to get a break and have time to sew for Weeza - since she was growing so fast. She did mention she thought we would all benefit from the fresh air and exercise and the whole experience. And Mother also said camp was relatively cheap.
You did look a bit shy and scared there - but you were pretty young to be away from home. I wonder how all those other little girls felt:) We will never know, but I do know some cried -- a lot.