“I’m fat!”
“Taught from infancy that beauty is woman’s sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison.”
— Mary Wollstonecraft, reformer and writer (1759-1797)
My tiny, beautiful daughter has taken to saying “I’m fat!” lately. Not just once or twice, but at least four or five times. And those are just the times that her dad or I have heard her mention it.
How many times has she said it to herself, in her head or aloud? In front of the mirror? When she’s trying on clothes?
How did this start so young?
Look in my mirror and you’ll see. I weigh 10 pounds more than when I got pregnant with our daughter — but I was overweight then, too. Not obese, but putting on enough pounds that my clothes didn’t fit anymore. So I bought bigger sizes, and pretty soon those didn’t fit, either. Then my doctor told me I am bordering on diabetes, and to lose 10 percent (or more) of my body weight. And to stop eating sweets and junk food.
Now.
So I complain, “I’m fat!” as I’m trying on dresses, tights, jeans that don’t fit. How do I explain to her that she’s perfect, but I’m not?
Naw, I’m perfect, too. I’ve avoided sugar and junk food three out of the last five days. It’s a start. That’s perfection, for now.
, 
.