By The Wiz
I went shopping this past weekend, mainly because since I wear jeans literally every day of my life, thay had all worn out and I was down to one pair that didn’t fit well. So I ventured out for some retail therapy and some valued time alone, quite underestimating how hard it would be to hold a bunch of clothes and open a dressing room door with one hand. But I digress…..
Anyway, after finding some jeans, I headed to a different store because it had also come to my attention that I was down to basically 2 outfits for church. (No, I don’t shop that often.) I was trying on a dress that looked great, and I ended up buying it, even though I have no idea what season it is. It’s black, knee-length, and a thinner material. So it’s kind of spring-like, but who wears black in the spring? As DH put it, “if you have a funeral to go to in the spring, you’re all set.” (It also made me long for pre-baby boobs, but I digress….)
Anyway, I couldn’t help over hearing the gal on one side of me shrieking to the gal on the other side of me.
“How does it look?”
“My butt’s too big for this. It would look better on you. I’m too chubby.”
Wow. 3 blasts in one shot. That takes talent. And as I was (mostly) ignoring this conversation, because, unfortunate as it is, it really is a very typical dressing room conversation, something caught my attention.
“Mom, you’re not chubby!”
And as I stepped out of my dressing room to look in the 3-way mirror, I saw a young girl of maybe 7 or 8 years, hairsprayed within an inch of her life, reassuring her mother that she was attractive. And my heart broke a little, because I knew then and there that that girl had no chance of escaping body image issues. She would grow up wondering if she was too chubby, or too skinny, or too whatever, because this was clearly not the first time her mom had disparaged herself in front of her daughter.
“I wish I could wear short skirts. Unfortunately, my calves look like my butt.”
“Mom, your legs are fine!”
I left at that point, partly because I didn’t want to hear any more, but mostly because I was done trying on dresses. And now I can’t get that little girl out of my head. So I’m putting her into all of yours.
Women who read this blog - you have a perfect right to feel however you wish about your bodies. You can hate your tummy, your thighs, your boobs, whatever. But, PPLLLEEAAASSSEEE don’t express that hatred in front of your children. They will get enough conditioning out there about why their bodies aren’t perfect. Let home be a place where they don’t have to think about it. It will go a long way if they don’t see their mother falling prey to that particular stress.
So, next time, go shopping alone. Or, if your daughters do come along, keep in mind that if you start slamming the way your figure looks, someone might be in the stall next to you planning to blog about it.
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