How old were you when you went on your first diet?
For me, I was around 9 years old and would be entering 5th grade at the end of the summer. At the time, I’d been repeatedly told that I was “chubby,” but my main association with being slightly overweight was that I wasn’t as athletic as some of the other kids in my elementary school class. I wasn’t particularly popular in elementary school and was often picked last for team sports in PE, causing me to make an early connection between being unpopular with my body weight.
Me in 5th grade in all my 80’s glory
At a routine doctor’s appointment, I recall my mom having a concerned conversation with my pediatrician about my weight. His advice had been to “cut down on the potato chips and junk food” for me and to allow my anticipated upcoming growth spurts to take care of the issue. My pediatrician’s advice wasn’t proactive enough for my mother. She decided that a better approach would be to put me on a modified version of the Weight Watchers diet. (Keep in mind that this was back in 1984, before the Points system or any widespread understanding of how protein, carbohydrates, and fat worked together nutritionally.) We measured out all of my food and tried to keep my calorie intake to under 900 calories per day, consuming as little fat as possible. I became well-acquainted with rice cakes, melba toast, and grapefruit. Of course, I lost weight, and I entered 5th grade at a “normal” weight for my height. Was I any more popular among my peers? Of course not. Was this the point in my life where I started to blame my unhappiness on my body’s appearance? Yup.
To be fair, my family’s obsession with weight and appearance didn’t start with my mom. My (thin) maternal grandmother had plenty of body image issues, and for all I know, so did her mother. My grandmother constantly made comments judging other women’s bodies. See that actress on tv? She’s wearing a dress too short for her chunky legs. See that woman walking to her car? That skirt makes her look “hippy”. I can’t blame my own mother for perpetuating messages that had been put in her head for her entire life.
While I maintained a “normal” weight for my height after that initial diet until I was 16, I hit puberty somewhat early and had noticeable, womanly curves by the time that I was in seventh grade. I was still young enough that my mom would take me clothes shopping, and the clothes that she’d help me select all adhered to rules of what was “flattering.” I can’t tell you how many times I heard that I couldn’t wear horizontal stripes, that I should choose dark colors because they were “slimming”, or that I shouldn’t wear capris because they’d make my short legs look even chunkier. I don’t think that I’ve owned a swimsuit that wasn’t black since I was in sixth grade.
Me ~14 years old. Teenage surliness is setting in. Note the Diet Coke can.
Not surprisingly, I carried my hatred of my own body into adulthood, affecting my relationships and my professional confidence. I finally started to truly pack on weight after I graduated from university and started working at desk jobs and going out to happy hours way too frequently with my coworkers. By the time that I was 27 years old, I weighed nearly 200 lbs. The occasional dating opportunities that I had completely dried up, and it felt like the world was confirming the message that I’d received from my mother my entire life: If you’re fat, you’re unloveable. I came to accept the fact that I would always hate my body and stopped trying to even fight those thoughts.
As women, I suspect that many of you reading this can probably relate to my experiences. We’ve all been told at some point that we weren’t worthy of some opportunity–romantic, professional, or otherwise–because our bodies didn’t measure up to society’s standard. I see the fallout from this every day in our Curvy Sewing Community Facebook group: women stating that they “can’t wear” a certain type of garment because of their body size/shape, women asking if a garment they made is “flattering” or not (if you like it, who cares?), women making self-deprecating comments about the size of their hips/thighs/waist. We’ve all been programmed for so long to think that the most acceptable way to look is as thin as possible that that type of thinking is second nature for many of us.
My attitude slowly began to change when I met my now-husband. He was the first romantic partner that I had who I knew loved me unconditionally, regardless of whether I was gaining or losing weight. He actually found it frustrating that I’d constantly make cracks about being a “blob” and that no matter what he said to me, I just couldn’t see myself as beautiful. Even if I couldn’t see myself as beautiful, at least my husband did.
The big change came, however, when I found out that I was pregnant with my daughter. Under no circumstances did I want her to grow up with the sense of body hatred that had hung over my life. I wanted her to have a healthy sense of self-confidence and understand that her appearance is certainly not the most important thing about her. The long history of body-shaming in my family needed to stop with me.
I love this kid.
My daughter is almost 5 years old now. As parents, we’ve learned just how many conscious decisions we have to make on a daily basis to try to de-emphasize the importance of a person’s physical appearance. To me, she’s the most adorable, sweetest, funniest kid that I’ve ever met. Sometimes, I can’t help but blurt out how cute I think she is, but I always try to counter that with telling her how smart or funny she is as a balance. I don’t crack jokes about my size, shape, or general appearance. If I’m going to be a body-positive role model, she doesn’t need to hear that type of negativity and self-loathing coming out of my mouth.
Obviously, at some point, outside influences will come into play, and we’ll need to be able to counter those. We already worry somewhat about the influence of my mother. One day when my mother came over for dinner, my daughter wasn’t much. She hadn’t eaten lunch particularly well, either, and my husband and I were trying to coax “just a few more bites” out of her. My mother’s reaction to this was to say, “Let her stop eating if she wants. You don’t want her to get fat.” Did I mention that my daughter is only 4 years old???
She’ll be bombarded by messages from the media at some point, too. As much as we try to screen any tv shows or movies that she watches now, at some point, she be exposed to content that doesn’t have the positive messages that we want her to hear. We won’t have any control over that. What we will have control over are the messages that we send through our own words and actions in our own home.
February 2017. Totally unacceptable, right?
Words have impact on those around us. They impact our families most immediately, but they can also impact nearly anyone who hears or reads those words. When you lament to an online Facebook group that you “can’t find any flattering clothes” because of your post-baby belly, what message does that send to everyone reading your comment? Hint: It’s not “my body rocks because it carried a child.” Trust me, there is always going to be someone larger than you who reads your comment and thinks, “If she thinks that her body is unacceptable, then what does that say about my body?” As individuals, we’re responsible for the words and messages that we put out into the world. If we can’t stop our body negativity for ourselves, perhaps we can stop it for our daughters, nieces, and the other women around us?
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Thanks for being so honest and open. This is a lovely piece of writing. I only wish more parents had your wisdom (and compassion) when it comes to the messaging they send their children.
I’m at the place where I love my body but hate how it looks most of the time. I am grateful for what it lets me do, and am always thoughtful of how everything I experience of the world is down to it. Someday I hope to feel its beauty without qualification. Until then, I thank people like you and the people of CSC for showing the way.
Good post, with important points. You are missing one point, though: your daughter will learn to value her own appearance by watching and hearing how you value yours. In other words, if you don’t develop some self-compassion, she will notice, and your words will have very little effect.
I am finding a new book (for me) helpful in this regard: “The Self-Compassion Diet” by Jean Fain. Please ignore the word “diet”. This book is about learning to accept yourself as you are and to be content with your faults and proud of your strengths. It just so happens that the people this woman counseles (she is a LicSW) seem to loose weight as a side effect of self-compassion and self-acceptance. I’m finding my attitude much less stressed as I follow Ms. Fain’s recommendations.
For you daughter’s sake, I encourage you to explore self-compassion as a discipline (see also self-compassion.org), and quit fighting with your self image. Give your daughter the example she needs, and that you deserve to be.
Best post I’ve read on CSC.
Thanks !!!!!!
What a wonderful post. For similar reasons, I worked hard at the messaging my now 19 and 22 year old daughters heard. The need to be vigilant doesn’t stop. Both of my girls are beautiful, funny, smart, opinionated and seem to have pretty solid self esteem. I would like to say mission accomplished, and maybe for them I succeeded. For myself,though, I still have a ways to go. One of my girls has what is commonly thought of as an “excellent” body type. My other daughter has more curves like I do, though she is also tall and strong and athletic and deeply self confident. I am ashamed to admit that things slip out of my mouth from time to time, always directed at my younger daughter, which shame me to my core. Please know I do try. and when I fail I have apologized and explained a bit of my baggage and why she should ignore me But I also know that while I have disrupted the cycle to some extent, she will have more work to do to make it go away completely.
Go easy on yourself if you don’t get it 100% right. And I am really saying that immediately previous sentence as a message to myself.
Dear Michelle, Thank you for posting. Your article reminded me of my very unhappy childhood and youth. (Insecure overweight mother and aunts full of hurtful comments that “meant well”. “Well someone has to tell her that if she continues like that, she’ll never get someone to love her…” Etc. etc.
Well they were so wrong.
I have come a long way and the CSC has reminded me how much I love sewing and all the wonderful things that go with it! Gorgeous material! Purring machines! Lovely clothes to wear.
My lovely husband looks up material and notion stores for me when we go to new places, gives me his honest opinion about the patterns I use and delights with me in all that’s possible! My friends delight with me in my new discovered treasures: We have fun!
I have come a long way and so have my sisters at the CSC: we’ll put our painful memories to rest now. They helped make us who we are; so they can stay. But they do not define us. The cat is calling me; she wants to play. My material is calling me; it needs some attention!
Thank you again!
Thanks. This was really important for me to read today.
Thank you for your timely article. It’s definitely something I’ve been struggling with lately, because I just hit the last month of my second pregnancy and outgrowing even my maternity jeans is not a good feeling! (To be fair to myself, I didn’t need those jeans at the end of my first pregnancy, because it was hitting summer, and I didn’t have a whole lot of time between wrapping up nursing and getting pregnant again.) But it’s a great reminder going into another postpartum period, since my focus last time was just on sewing and wearing something, anything, that just fits. I really miss being able to just focus on making clothes that will make me feel fabulous, instead of what will work with the rapid body changes that go along with pregnancy and breastfeeding!
Great post. Youngest DD has always had all of those issues.
Wonderful post! Thank you, Michelle.
Gosh this resonated with me, thank you for such a thoughtful piece.
I have four sisters , between us we have been on a diet for about 200 years, its just crazy…. Since I have started sewing and become involved with groups like this (so much kindness & great sewing tips, result!) I’ve become much more aware of how we speak to each other, from the casual “wedding coming up, how much weight can we lose”, to a bad day “I feel so frumpy” to my personal fav “I’m starting healthy living this week (and pause…..while I’m supposed to say “oh yep, me too”). Don’t get me wrong, we get on well & its done from a place of kindness, but the constant focus on what we “could” be (skinnier! happier! better dressed!) by successful clever woman, rather than celebrating what we actually “are” (in my case not so skinny, very happy, wearing a fabulous me made that actually fits!) is so corrosive. Next time I find myself saying something that isn’t body positive (44 years of conditioning is hard to just forget sadly) I shall think of this. x
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Michelle. Much of what you so eloquently wrote has been part of my experience too, including loving parents who were weight-obsessed and incredibly hurtful (albeit unintentionally). Now, I too am raising a daughter whom I hope will grow up with a healthier sense of her own body in part because of my decision to love and accept my body (and everyone else’s too) regardless of size.
I am working hard on my sewing skills because I think all of you at Curvy Sewing Collective are onto something wonderful!! Thank you!
Michelle, thank you so much for this post! Like others I can relate.
I grew up in the ballet community and was always the largest person in class. No tutu was ever big enough for my hips and I always felt like I needed to apologize when I was partnered.
Now days I’m looking at my genetics and feel doomed to only gain more and more weight. My female relatives all eat so healthy and yet are all obese. Doctors don’t help when they preach weigh loss as the only cure for all your ailments.
I have a 2 year old and a 5 year old and they both barely cling to the bottom of the growth charts. It felt like all the other moms were breastfeeding their way to chubby babies and their pre-baby weight. Meanwhile my kids were getting a failure to thrive diagnosis and I always felt like the pediatrician was judging me for being so fat while my kids were failing to gain enough weight. I still feel self conscious having having small kids and it is really really hard not to comment that they are too thin or I am too large. Honestly making my own clothing is so so so liberating when it comes to size and it is helpful for the kids too. We are our own size.
What a powerful post, Michelle. Thank you. Whatever our experiences have been (and it’s amazing to me how many negative versions of growing up in a female body there really are!), trying to model good behavior not just for our kids but for our friends and colleagues as well is a constant exercise in mindfulness. It’s so easy to fall back into the hyper-awareness and negative interpretations of our appearances that pop culture seems to promote so persistently. No matter how much I practice, I still have to kick myself now and then to get back on the right track – that is, focusing on worthwhile things like smiles and smarts and excellent sewing.
Oh Michelle, I had a good cry this morning after I read your blog post. At the age of 62, you would think that I would have come to some kind of positive body image! It’s been a struggle all my life. I can still hear the neighborhood kids calling me names, or bearing the indignity of being taken to Lane Bryant “Junior Plenty Shop” at the mall to get new clothes. In high school I dieted constantly, which has continued all my life. At one point I was wearing a size 9 My skinny grandmother would cluck about how I had “big bones” all the while stuffing me with treats when I was with her. I know my late mother talked about me behind my back when I was at my top weight. That was 80 lbs ago. At this point I try to be very careful about what I eat for my health–and that is what I am trying to convey now to my son and daughters. One thing my mother realized after I started sewing my clothes was that the only size label I needed to see was the “My Size” one. She was curvy herself, and her style philosophy was that as long as something flattered her, it didn’t matter what the size label was.
I wish I had come to the healthy realization that you have come to a LONG time ago. My husband of 39 years loves my for who I am. That helps me tremendously in my daily struggle. I applaud your honesty!
Michelle, this is hands down the best post I’ve ever seen on CSC. The response from commenters is indicative of how you have struck a chord! What can I say, except I’m sorry you’ve been through such a rough time and I hope that in trying to teach your daughter to love herself as she is, you can learn more self-love too. It makes me sad that such a clever and funny person as yourself would be boiled down to one physical attribute for so much of your life.
Plenty of commenters have shared their story, well here’s mine: I’ve spent a significant chuck of time on an eating disorders unit, and am still friends with many who have EDs. (I haven’t experienced it myself, but that’s another story!) What terrifies me most about my experience is how so much behaviour which would be clinically considered “disordered eating” and enough to get you sectioned is normalised by diet culture. Fad diets, fasting, juice cleanses, obsessively counting calories, only ever talking about food/weight, these are all unhealthy behaviours which have somehow been twisted to be “normal” and even “healthy” in our societal fixation with weight. When I hear of people starving themselves thin, all I can see is those beautiful girls who were dying from their mental illness over which they had no control. This is not to blame the people in question, but rather a society which normalises disordered eating behaviours because apparently your health is worth less than your appearance. Thank you for opening a dialogue on this topic and I hope things change.