just, wow... I hope one day I can have the courage to do something like this myself... this really hit home... its a letter a daughter wrote to her mother when she became older, talking to her about the body hatred and shaming she talked and gave the example of at home with her. Passing on body hatred Dear Mum, I was seven when I discovered that you were fat, ugly and horrible. Up until that point I had believed that you were beautiful - in every sense of the word. I remember flicking through old photo albums and staring at pictures of you standing on the deck of a boat. Your white strapless bathing suit looked so glamorous, just like a movie star. Whenever I had the chance Id pull out that wondrous white bathing suit hidden in your bottom drawer and imagine a time when Id be big enough to wear it; when Id be like you. But all of that changed when, one night, we were dressed up for a party and you said to me, Look at you, so thin, beautiful and lovely. And look at me, fat, ugly and horrible. At first I didnt understand what you meant. Youre not fat, I said earnestly and innocently, and you replied, Yes I am, darling. Ive always been fat; even as a child. In the days that followed I had some painful revelations that have shaped my whole life. I learned that: 1. You must be fat because mothers dont lie. 2. Fat is ugly and horrible. 3. When I grow up Ill look like you and therefore I will be fat, ugly and horrible too. Years later, I looked back on this conversation and the hundreds that followed and cursed you for feeling so unattractive, insecure and unworthy. Because, as my first and most influential role model, you taught me to believe the same thing about myself. With every grimace at your reflection in the mirror, every new wonder diet that was going to change your life, and every guilty spoon of Oh-I-really-shouldnt, I learned that women must be thin to be valid and worthy. Girls must go without because their greatest contribution to the world is their physical beauty. Just like you, I have spent my whole life feeling fat. When did fat become a feeling anyway? And because I believed I was fat, I knew I was no good. But now that I am older, and a mother myself, I know that blaming you for my body hatred is unhelpful and unfair. I now understand that you too are a product of a long and rich lineage of women who were taught to loathe themselves. Look at the example Nanna set for you. Despite being what could only be described as famine-victim chic, she dieted every day of her life until the day she died at 79 years of age. She used to put on make-up to walk to the letterbox for fear that somebody might see her unpainted face. I remember her compassionate response when you announced that Dad had left you for another woman. Her first comment was, I dont understand why hed leave you. You look after yourself, you wear lipstick. Youre overweight - but not that much. Before Dad left, he provided no balm for your body-image torment either. Jesus, Jan, I overheard him say to you. Its not that hard. Energy in versus energy out. If you want to lose weight you just have to eat less. That night at dinner I watched you implement Dads Energy In, Energy Out: Jesus, Jan, Just Eat Less weight-loss cure. You served up chow mein for dinner. (Remember how in 1980s Australian suburbia, a combination of mince, cabbage, and soy sauce was considered the height of exotic gourmet?) Everyone elses food was on a dinner plate except yours. You served your chow mein on a tiny bread-and-butter plate. As you sat in front of that pathetic scoop of mince, silent tears streamed down your face. I said nothing. Not even when your shoulders started heaving from your distress. We all ate our dinner in silence. Nobody comforted you. Nobody told you to stop being ridiculous and get a proper plate. Nobody told you that you were already loved and already good enough. Your achievements and your worth - as a teacher of children with special needs and a devoted mother of three of your own - paled into insignificance when compared with the centimetres you couldnt lose from your waist. It broke my heart to witness your despair and Im sorry that I didnt rush to your defence. Id already learned that it was your fault that you were fat. Id even heard Dad describe losing weight as a simple process - yet one that you still couldnt come to grips with. The lesson: you didnt deserve any food and you certainly didnt deserve any sympathy. But I was wrong, Mum. Now I understand what its like to grow up in a society that tells women that their beauty matters most, and at the same time defines a standard of beauty that is perpetually out of our reach. I also know the pain of internalising these messages. We have become our own jailors and we inflict our own punishments for failing to measure up. No one is crueller to us than we are to ourselves. But this madness has to stop, Mum. It stops with you, it stops with me and it stops now. We deserve better - better than to have our days brought to ruin by bad body thoughts, wishing we were otherwise. And its not just about you and me any more. Its also about Violet. Your granddaughter is only 3 and I do not want body hatred to take root inside her and strangle her happiness, her confidence and her potential. I dont want Violet to believe that her beauty is her most important asset; that it will define her worth in the world. When Violet looks to us to learn how to be a woman, we need to be the best role models we can. We need to show her with our words and our actions that women are good enough just the way they are. And for her to believe us, we need to believe it ourselves. The older we get, the more loved ones we lose to accidents and illness. Their passing is always tragic and far too soon. I sometimes think about what these friends - and the people who love them - wouldnt give for more time in a body that was healthy. A body that would allow them to live just a little longer. The size of that bodys thighs or the lines on its face wouldnt matter. It would be alive and therefore it would be perfect. Your body is perfect too. It allows you to disarm a room with your smile and infect everyone with your laugh. It gives you arms to wrap around Violet and squeeze her until she giggles. Every moment we spend worrying about our physical flaws is a moment wasted, a precious slice of life that we will never get back. Let us honour and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs. When I looked at that photo of you in the white bathing suit all those years ago, my innocent young eyes saw the truth. I saw unconditional love, beauty and wisdom. I saw my Mum. Love, Kasey xx *Ale
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 05:13:01 +0000
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