Letter to my Future Son {thoughts on beauty}

To my future son,

You are not even conceived yet, and already I dream of you. There are many fears that raising a girl sparked in me, but raising a son comes with a lot of responsibility. For now, there is really only one thing I want to talk to you about.

Appreciating people for who they are, not what they look like. Specifically, I want you to respect the bodies of women and not let societal pressures persuade you to put such an emphasis on appearance.

In society today, the media is flooded with images of thin women portrayed as beautiful. Movies promote sex as a way to begin a relationship. Pornography sets the stage for lust. Men are often given a "pass" to be chauvinistic, disrespectful, and perverse. Please do not take it.

Save Our Daughters part IV: What You Can Do

This is part IV of my Save Our Daughters series. If you have not read parts I - III, please do so.

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Mothers ask yourself these questions:

• How do I feel about my own body?
• Do I make negative comments about my body or the bodies of other women?
• Am I often on a diet, over-exercising, or obsessing about my weight?
• Do I hide my body from my family and friends?
• Am I critical about my child's body?
• Do I make negative comments about my child's weight or eating habits?
• Have I ever restricted my child's food intake for fear that she would get fat?
• Have I focused more attention on my daughter's weight than my son's?
  taken from University of Florida Extension
  

Like so many other things, mothers are the first line of defense when it comes to stopping poor body image and eating disorders. I know that many people fall into the trap of 'blaming the media,' but young girls get their cues primarily from the women around them. Little girls don't care what Victoria Beckham or Katie Holmes look like. They don't care that Heidi Klum walked the runway weeks after giving birth. They care what you think about yourself, they notice how you interact with food, and they listen when you speak negatively. By the time your daughter gets to the age that she may care about celebrities, your impressions on her already solidified the way she thinks about body image. Yes, the media sucks...so what. What really matters is how you feel about yourself and what you do around your kids.

Please reflect on the above questions & take action NOW if you find that you may be negatively influencing your kids' thoughts on body image. There are lots of resources out there, including books, websites, and educational articles.

A few resources to get you started:

Pierson, S., & Cohen, P. (2003). You have to say I'm pretty, you're my mother: How to help your daughter learn to love her body and herself. StateplaceNew York: Simon & Schuster.

http://www.womenshealth.gov/body-image/kids/

http://www.webmd.com/healthy-beauty/features/the-mother-daughter-weight-connection

Save Our Daughters part III: positive body image for my daughter

This is part III of my Save Our Daughters series. If you have not read part I or part II, please read them for the motivation behind  this post.

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G on Mother's Day, about 2.5 months old

My daughter is beautiful. She is amazing. She is fun. She is smart. She is silly. She is personable. She is mine.

The love between me and my husband (plus God) created this little girl, who has no idea what the world has in store for her. Before little bear was born, I had hoped for a boy. I didn't really care what sex our baby was, as long as he or she was healthy...but I really did hope for a boy.
One of the main reasons?
I didn't want my child to experience the pain and agony of trying to be a certain size or weight...and the odds were a lot better if our baby was a boy. I know that men can be self-conscious, and I know they can be bullied and have poor body image. The statistics don't lie though: Women are a lot more likely to suffer from an eating disorder.

G, about 3 hours old

Anyways, our baby was born. She laid on my chest, and I marveled at her perfection. I was also really proud of myself for giving birth to her au naturale. How strong and amazing is a woman's body!? In those first days I felt many things (thanks hormones), and it was inevitable; I wondered how I would ever be able to shield her from the situations I had fallen victim to.



Mothering is tough, let alone trying to promote a positive body image, so thank God I have a few years before G starts to understand what that is.

Here is what I have so far--

G 7 months old

I hope G will have a good relationship with food.

I will not force her to 'clean' her plate. She can eat when she is hungry, and be done when she is not. I hate "wasting" food, so we'll just serve less. If she's hungry, she can have a little more.
We will have primarily fruits and vegetables for snacks. Grains, sweets, and fats will be mostly reserved for meals and dessert. I don't want to call them "treats," as that has the connotation they were earned.
I will teach her to fill her plate with a healthy balance of all food groups.
I will not eat a lot of junk in front of her. Well, I just won't eat a lot of junk period. I have to lead by example.
G will not be given food as a "reward." I know this will probably be really hard, especially in the preschool years. I don't want to use candy for potty training, going to soccer practice, or getting a good grade in school. I think that could lead to the mindset of hard work = eat food. I suffered (still do) from thinking that if I worked out, I deserved a treat. I think that also leads to an emotional attachment to food. I really, really don't want her to have that. Food fuels our bodies. End of story.

G around 1.5 months old

I hope G will understand health is more important than the number on the scale, or the size on her clothes.
When we go to the doctor, or get sports physicals, I will emphasize the health issues. We won't care about BMI or weight, so long as she is active, eating right, and not at risk for serious problems like diabetes.
I will have G turn away from the scale when they weigh her, and ask the nurses not to say the number aloud. I will not keep a scale in the house. I do not want her to be obsessed with some number.
I wish it were possible to keep G from knowing about sizes while shopping...but I can't go into the stores and cut out all of the tags. Bummer. I will focus on the fit of the clothes, rather than the size. We will discuss why sizes are "necessary," and how important it is that she feel comfortable in the clothes.
I will not get frustrated if she outgrows a size "too" quickly. I will not comment on how "big she is getting." I will, instead, say, "you're growing into a beautiful young woman, I'm so proud of you!" or something like that...
I will not discuss my own issues with sizing around her. I will be proud of her shape, so I need to be proud of my own.
I will not dismiss her feelings, if she is having any negative thoughts, I will be there to encourage, promote, and empathize.

G at 3 months old

I hope G will talk to me or her dad if she is struggling with stress.
Part of developing an eating disorder stems from the desire to control, when other things feel like they are spiraling out of control. What you put into your body is something that you control. I hope to give G ways to control other things in her life by giving her options that allow her to take ownership of decisions.
I do not want to let G 'over-book' herself like most kids these days. As a family, we will decide what extracurricular activities to take on each year so that a good time balance is found. We will focus on being great at the things we do, rather than spreading ourselves too thin and ending up being mediocre at them all.
I will not put pressure on G to have all A's. Yes, that's ideal, but as long as she is working hard, learning the material, and keeping up with the assignments, we'll be happy.
I must get better at dealing with my own stress. I cannot expect her to handle stress well, if I get worked up over little things. This will be a big challenge for me, but she needs a good example. We will find ways to de-stress that are healthy. Going for walks, listening to music, taking some quiet time, sometimes saying "no" to things that don't have to be done today, and praying are good options.
We will attend mass as a family, and discuss faith matters in our home. We will pray together and talk about those things stressing us out. We will start this at a young age so that good foundations are already set in preparation for the teen years.

I hope G will be critical of media, social media, and her peers interpretation of both.
This one is pretty simple. I don't want her watching junk, but I won't really be able to stop that forever. So the main thing I must do, is teach her to watch TV, surf the web, and listen to the radio with a critical eye/ear. She must know that not everything in the media is true. People lie, airbrushes exist, and most people are just trying to make money & promote their own interests. I want to teach her to be an independent thinker. I will teach her to research topics that interest her. I want her to know who, what, when, where, how. I think this will be a fun job, because of my interest in journalism and investigative knowledge.

G, 6 month professional pictures

Most importantly, I hope G will be happy. She deserves to be happy. Everyone does.


I know I cannot stop her from developing an eating disorder, or even a poor body image, but I can try. I really want the cycle to stop with me. I want to save our daughters.


For other Save Our Daughter blogs, see The Shape of a Mother.
For resources on recovering from an eating disorder, please see the National Eating Disorder Association.

Save Our Daughters part II; The Road to Recovery

This is part II of my Save Our Daughter series. If you have not read part I, please read it for background information on why/how I became bulimic. Please don't judge me for being so open and honest. Feel free to stop reading if you are offended. My hope is to touch someone who may have been, or is still going, through the same thing. I also want to give some background for part III of my series, which will be about trying to help G avoid a poor body-image and complications of that.

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I am a smart woman. I knew being bulimic was unhealthy.

I sought help. I told my mom. She really only worried about me more. I went to the student health center. I was given a counselor, a nutritionist, and a doctor. They have a great program set up to (try to) help students get better. I wasn't really ready to change though, so none of that helped. I thought I was ready to get better...but I guess I wasn't.

I prayed. I knew God doesn't make junk, but I separated the action of being bulimic from who I was as a person. Thus, it was someone else who did all that binge/purge stuff. I didn't know that girl. I only hope God can forgive me for being so selfish.

When I met the man who would become my husband, things just felt right. Our relationship was serious from the get-go. Marriage was inevitable, and part of being soul mates is the ability to trust completely. 14 months after my bulimia started, I broke down and told my future husband all about it. This was only 4 months after we started dating. He reacted the only way someone truly in love could...concern, care, and desire to help me get better. He didn't push me away, think that I was broken, or get angry. Together, we talked about how it started, why it was bad, and how I could get better. He loved me-broken me-and that gave me hope that I could get better. One of the sweetest things he said to me: "You have to get better, because I was reading, and bulimic women have a lot harder time trying to get pregnant...and we want to have a family." He had read all about bulimia, it's health affects, and how to be supportive to me.

Just like the road to hell, the road to recovery is paved with good intentions. I swore I'd be better by the time we got married. Though I wanted to get better, I slipped up a few times.  From marriage until graduation (18 months), there were less than 10 occasions. That's not bulimia, by the medicinal definition, but it certainly isn't fully recovered. I don't think recovering from an eating disorder is something that happens very quickly.

After we moved to our current home, there was one time. It was June of 2010.

That's hard for me to admit, because it wasn't that long ago. Before that, it had been at least 6 months. The "reason" for that binge/purge was because I had gained weight, despite working out and eating right. I was craving junk food sooooo bad. I let myself binge/purge, despite the hard work I had been doing to be healthy. Turns out, I had just become pregnant.

When I found out I was pregnant, my mind flashed to that episode and I was horrified. What had I done?? I was pretty worried about the baby until our 20 week sonogram, when I was assured he or she was healthy and growing just find.

That was the last time I've had a bulimic action. Sure, I still get down on my body sometimes...but in a much more normal way. It is not easy. Alcoholics can give up alcohol. Smokers can give up cigarettes. Those suffering from an eating disorder cannot simply give up food. There are a lot of people suffering from an eating disorder than never find help, or they give up hope. I pray for them. Staying healthy, and trying to maintain a positive relationship with food and my body is hard. Thankfully, I do have support and for some reason, a stronger-than-ever will power.

I don't know how or why, but after becoming a mom, my body image has improved somewhat. I carried a baby, my body (with God, of course) nurtured her into being, I gave birth, and I am nursing her. I am now completely responsible for a little girl's well-being. She needs me, more than I need to be "perfect." I eat a well-balanced diet. I work out because I want to, and if I don't feel like it...I don't. I have love handles, 'momma' marks, jiggly thighs, and a rounder-than-I'd-prefer belly, but I accept them.

Within the past year I've truly come to believe my physical appearance is nothing compared to my personality, soul, and actions. My husband says the nicest thing about me is my "extreme caringness." Not my body. G doesn't care about my body either. Pass the dessert, because I could die tomorrow and no one will say, "oh, she was so fat, she ate too much ice cream!" I hope they will say, "oh, she was really sweet." So long as I am healthy and taking care of myself...what will be, will be. To be clear, having this outlook doesn't justify eating any and everything while leading an inactive lifestyle. This outlook simply states, everything in moderation...right, mom?

That statement comes after 24 years of disordered thinking and 4 years of an eating disorder--and I couldn't be more proud of myself. I have to work at it everyday, but I'd call it recovery.

Being pregnant with G is what finally helped me recover, and I vow to do everything possible to keep her from falling victim to a poor body image, or worse--an eating disorder.
Stay tuned for part III of my Saving Our Daughters series for how I plan to do so.

For resources on recovering from an eating disorder, please see the National Eating Disorder Association.

Save Our Daughters part I, How I developed an eating disorder

This post is extremely personal, and is part I of my series about Saving Our Daughters. Please don't judge me for being so open and honest. Feel free to stop reading if you are offended. My hope is to touch someone who may have been, or is still going, through the same thing. I also want to give some background for part III of my series, which will be about trying to help G avoid the misery of poor self-image.

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Have you ever done something, but felt that you weren't the one doing it?
Ever do something that you said you never would do?
Ever do it over and over again?

I have. Many, many times.

I ate a lot of food.
Then, I threw it up I made myself throw it up.

I guess you can call it bingeing (yes, correct spelling) and purging. Bulimia. Whatever.

I've always had a poor body image. I primarily blame the media, not necessarily for any influence on me, but for their influence on society and my friends, which did affect me. I didn't want to look a certain way because celebrities did, I wanted to look a certain way because girls around me did.
When I was young, my mom often commented on what or how much I was eating. I know she didn't mean any harm, she just didn't want me to be fat. I don't blame her at all, she's one of my best friends, those comments are simply one rung on the ladder.
Another rung, is the fact that I had several relatives who fed me anything/everything I wanted. I didn't really know the meaning of 'healthy eating.'
I also matured faster than everyone in my grade, and boys made fun of the way I looked in elementary school.
I was on the chubbier side in middle school, when girls become really catty, and I felt ostracized.
I thinned out some by high school, and I was an athlete. On the inside, though, I still felt really bad about how I looked because I was bigger than my jock peers. In my mind, I wore a "big" size and I weighed a lot. I had love handles. I had tree trunks for thighs. Something was always wrong, in my mind.
I also had a bad relationship with food. I would not eat breakfast, if it meant I could eat junk food for a snack. I 'rewarded' myself for running, by eating ice cream or some other unhealthy snack. My mom always told me the key to healthy eating is moderation. I knew in the back of my mind I had a bad relationship with food...but I didn't really do much about it until I left home.
My freshman year of college, nutrition became a passion of mine. So much so that I became kind of obsessive about it. I wouldn't eat anything bad...but then that would lead my body to crave any semblance of fat, so I'd binge eat it. All I was missing was the trigger leading to purging.

Enter a very catastrophic break-up with a serious boyfriend. It was a bad relationship from the get-go. I was set on remaining single my senior year of high school...but I was a sucker for smooth talkers who brought me flowers on our first "non" date. It was all down hill from there. I still planned on breaking up with him when I went to college. Well. He.followed.me.there. That screwed up my college experience on many levels. A few months later, he moved back home, and had the audacity to break up with ME! I was completely devastated. It was one of the lowest points of my life. He was a loser, I was a winner...and here he was breaking up with me! I was the one that wanted to break up! I never did it because I was too afraid of being alone. So when he did it, I felt like I had been punched in the gut, kicked in the head, and spit on.

I had previously thought I was an amazing catch, but if this loser felt like he was better off without me...I began to think I wasn't worth all that much. I moved on, but the relationship and break-up scarred me for life.

I found solace in exercising. I used my body, proved to myself what it could do, and kept my mind off of other things. Exercise is a great way to relieve stress and boost moral--the problem arises when it becomes obsessive. Just as I had developed a bad relationship with food, I started one with exercise. If I didn't get to the gym at least once a day, I got really down on myself. I ran so much, ibuprofen was the only way I could walk to class. I was into size 6 clothes, and for my body...that might as well be a size 0. I had about 14% body fat...again, for my genes, that's ridiculous. I ate only enough to be efficient in the gym.

The summer after my freshman year I sublet an apartment so that I could stay at college--working, taking a class, and running. (I still love running, but my affinity for it is much healthier now)

So what took me from compulsive exercising and eating overly healthy, to being bulimic?

Living on my own. That, in and of itself, like many of the things above, is not bad.  Combine them all and the ladder I was climbing toward an eating disorder was complete.

No one was there to hold me accountable. I felt isolated, and I was a wreck. I had friends, but that didn't matter. On the inside, I was alone.

My 'healthy' eating and over-exercising led my body to crave fats. So in my weakest moments, I would find something-anything-junky to eat. I'd then feel completely horrible & make myself throw it up. Those 'weakest moments' became routine. It was a daily, if not more, occurrence.

I really don't think I can go into anymore detail, for fear of scaring family and friends. Suffice it to say, it got bad. I don't want to really rehash all of the details of being bulimic. For the purpose of Saving Our Daughters, you really only need to know how I became bulimic.

For my attempts to recover, see part II.

For resources on recovering from an eating disorder, please see the National Eating Disorder Association.