Body Image

Thanks for the responses on my blog yesterday, here and on Facebook.  You know the worst part about that comment I received?  I have now looked at my forearms in the mirror in the past week more times than I have ever looked at them.  Why did I let that get to me at all?  It's my forearms, for goodness sake. 

As parents, we all have this responsibility to our children to love our own bodies.  We can work on being healthy, of course, and talk about exercising and eating right for our health.  But what we CANNOT do is OBSESS over it, and especially not obsess over our weight, body shape, imperfections, etc.  They hear that, and they file it away.  Even when they are 2 years old, they are developing an idea of what is right and who they are.  They want to be just like us, and if we stand on the scale, and curse that extra donut right before we go workout for an hour - well, that sends the wrong message.  Those are the moments that lead kids on a dangerous path toward eating disorders and a poor self image. 

Let's remember to focus on letting our kids hear us say, "Wow, I feel really energized after that bike ride!" or "This meal is going to make me strong."  Let's focus on the positive, and stop stepping on the scale with our kids in the room.  Better yet - throw it out the window.  Wait... not sure I can do that.  Maybe I can hide it in the closet.  OK, well I clearly still have some demons to get rid of myself. 

With 3 kids who still think the world of their Mommy (the oldest is only 4), I'm going to work on not talking about what I dislike about myself at all.  Instead, when I feel like saying something that will tear myself down, I'm just going to tell them that I love them.  That'll shut me up!

I'm 32 and a Half!

I used to say that I would NEVER be one of those women who was ashamed of her age.  I'm still not, but I'm starting to see why some women are. 

I have always had a fairly healthy body image.  Granted, I have had those feelings time to time when I've been unhappy with a particular body part. When I was in high school, it was my nose.  In college, it was my upper arms.  When I was pregnant, it was my ankles (or rather, LACK of ankles).  After I had my kids, it was my tummy and my chest (but that's a small price to pay).  Overall, nothing terrible.  I either work to correct the problem, or just live with it and understand that it's just a part of who I am.

Last week, however, someone guessed my age.  He wasn't off by much.  He guessed I was 34, and I'm actually 32.  I wasn't offended by that comment at all.  I was taken aback when he decided to explain WHY he thought I was in my mid thirties.  He said my forearms gave me away.  My FOREARMS?  He said my skin didn't sag like if I was in my 40s, but it's just... there.  WHAT?!  At first I was just a little offended that he would even suggest such a thing about my body.  But there's this little part in my brain that made me feel self-conscious about it.  Here I was going around day by day and not even realizing that I have OLD FOREARMS.  Yikes!

Well, I do know that this guy may be a little crazy, because I think my forearms are just fine, but that comment will be filed away in my brain next to the comment from a lady at Kay's Jewelry over 15 years ago who shouted at me "Wow! Your ears are TINY!"

By the way, I think my ears are FABULOUS!