Mom... she is watching everything you do. Here's why you need to wear that swimsuit.
She watches everything you do, mimics your every move, and takes to heart everything you say.
I think I was between 11 and 12 years old when I started hating my body. Where did it come from? I can't really pin point the exact reason for it. I do remember my family in general being vain. I remember my aunts and uncles criticizing physical appearance. I remember my mom scolding my for not putting more attention towards my physical appearance. I was accused of looking "sloppy" or like I didn't care. I remember my dad calling me a pork chop. In his mind, I'm sure he meant it as a joke. What my changing body and adolescent mind heard was, "you are chunky." I will never forget the day that one of my male cousins told me that I was the fat cheerleader. That was the day I stopped eating all together.
In my late teens and early twenties, I over exercised and under ate. I was super thin, and I still didn't have the confidence to wear a bikini in public.
As a personal trainer and fitness instructor, I am still afraid that people and clients will think that I don't look like someone who has been working in the fitness industry for 20 years. Needless to say, I still suffer from body image issues.
I hate my boobs. They're too big. I hate that my butt never seems to get firm in spite of 20 years worth of squats and lunges. My knees are starting to make cracking sounds from all the leg work I've done, and I still don't have a "trainers" butt!
But here's when things changed.
I LOVE MY DAUGHTER MORE THAN I HATE MY BODY.
I knew from the minute I became a mom that I was not going to let my daughter suffer the same painful self loathing body hate that I have always suffered from. I was going to talk to my daughter about health, not weight. I was going to talk about food as sustenance and nutrition, no as a diet and calories. I was going to tell all of her little friends that they were beautiful, and I was going to do it in front of her, so that she could witness it.
When puberty came for her, she did not look like the other girls. She was taller...a lot taller. She had bigger hips than they did, and her legs were thicker than theirs, and I told her that she was beautiful. Her big strong legs were something to be proud of.
But here's where things got hard for me. I had to lead by example. My daughter had to see me put on a swimsuit. She had to see me wear it out in public, and she had to see that I was not self conscious while doing it.
This was really hard for me, a life long self loather of my body image. As much as I hated it, I put on the swimsuit. I did it for her. I had to remind myself that I never want her to miss out on feeling the sun kiss her bare skin, or the ocean breeze brush pass her exposed body. I want her to always relish in the freedom of swimming without the weight of a big wet bulky t-shirt or shorts hanging from her body.
I acknowledge that I, nor any woman, or man, should ever have to give up these beautiful feelings for fear of being harshly criticized by someone who is vain. I shouldn't care if my cellulite bothers people. I shouldn't care if I have rolls, or if my booty is squishy, or if my boobs are too big. But I do. I still do. I wish I didn't. But I am still very uncomfortable with people looking at me, and my body. They say to "fake it till you make it." And that is exactly what I do. I do it because my daughter is worth it. Her gorgeous young friends are worth it. And ultimately, I am worth it too.
My daughter is now 18 years old. And I am happy to report that she loves her body. She loves all 6 foot, 170 pounds of her body. She loves her thick, strong legs, and her small chest. She wears her swimsuits with a smile on her face!
And that my lovelies, makes my fear of putting on a swimsuit soooooo worth it!!!!
Comments