We owe it to little girls
A guest post. You remember her. She wrote about being pregnant and what the hell does “normal” look like anyway– here. And she’s back for more! And the more is amazing.
I am Anna, food-blogger at Icy Violet’s Kitchen, thinker-about-women’s-issues, and lover of Kate’s blog. My first baby is due tomorrow. How about that?
NEGATIVE BODY TALK:
I’m so fat!
You’re not! I am.
You! You look great!
Chuh. Have you seen these thighs?
Look at these arms!
What about this double chin!
***
Had a very interesting experience the other day.
I was spending time with family. Big family. Family I don’t always see. Specifically I was spending time with my female cousins. We’re a large family with a propensity for daughters, and I have a lot (of cousins that is, not daughters…).
My female cousins are beautiful, beautiful women. My mother’s side of the family just has those genes. They are small, thin-boned, fine featured and unfailingly thin.
They are fun, friendly, intelligent people, and they lead fascinating lives. But I was always aware growing up, and still am today, that I differed from them. Those graceful bird genes were just overpowered in my personal genetic soup. Instead I got my father’s broad shoulders, snub nose, thick legs, and a tummy pooch that waxes and wanes.
Still. These things never came between us. Partially because as I’ve matured, one of the things I’ve realized about women is that we all, or nearly all of us, hate our bodies, no matter how good we look. For some reason or another. And even if we don’t, we often pretend to, because who wants to be that girl who just talks about how much she loves her own face? You would get tossed out of the party before saying Bob’s your uncle (no need to say that with my cousins, really, we already know whose uncle Bob is).
That sort of talk is frowned upon, because negative body talk is something to bond over, isn’t it? We know it’s bad, and shaming, and reinforcing of negative body image and self hate. But it can be FUN, can’t it? To argue over who has the poochiest tummy, the cheesiest thighs? You aren’t fat, I’M FAT. Noooooooooo you’re not. And you laugh and you hug and you bond.
So there I was, sitting on my aunt’s couch, indulging. I was gabbing with one of these cousins, happy, at ease, and holding forth about how I hope, hope, hope that my baby gets my husband’s genes (tall and thin), or my mother’s genes (short and thin), but most definitely not MY monkey genes (short and stumpy). Lots of jokes about barrel chests and dragging knuckles. And my cousin laughed and said, “Nooo, you look great!” just like she is supposed to say.
And that’s when I noticed something.
Someone was listening.
My cousin’s daughter, eleven years old, was sitting silently nearby, and paying very close attention.
Now as I’ve mentioned, growing up in this family I’d been unsure of myself for years because I did not physically fit in.
And, that being my background, I can’t help but notice that neither does this daughter. The bird genes skipped her too. Bulkier than her tiny contemporaries, thick legs and a poochy tummy already. Clumsy, even, and physically awkward to the point that her mother worries about it. She stands out among her cousins, wispy and blonde and sunny as their mothers. And she’s terribly shy.
Brilliant, too. Smart as a whip. In fact although I rarely see her, I’ve always felt we were good friends ever since she was three, and I babysat her, and we held a full-on grown up chat session. It blew my mind, because she was three, and about as capable and thoughtful as I was.
Since then, we always talk at family gatherings, and I know (because her mom told me) that she holds me in a sort of special esteem. Well, the feeling is mutual.
So now I’m watching her, my little pal, and she is watching me, and I’m hearing myself going on about the danger, the pain, the shame of my monkey genes, and how much I hope my children don’t look like me, how awful that would be for them. And I suddenly realize I need to shut my mouth.
Because, while my chatter would be inappropriate, I think, in front of any young girl, it finally occurs to me that my bond with this particular girl may not be strictly intellectual and affectionate.
It may be, at least in part, the monkey genes. Maybe she doesn’t just see a friendly adult in me. Maybe what she sees is a confident person, a happy person, even an attractive person (I have my moments, after all). A happy, confident, attractive, thick, non-bird like, monkey person.
She doesn’t have a lot of those around her. It’s a different path, different from her mother’s, her aunts, her cousins.
Maybe I’m dreaming all this. I’m not in her head. She’s her own person, and maybe she doesn’t notice her body is “different” from those around her, never will. Maybe she is strong enough already not to care. I hope so. I just know who I was at her age, and how much it meant to meet someone who looked like me, and didn’t feel bad about it.
And until the next family meeting, I have to live with the fact that by not loving and respecting myself, I have blown my opportunity to be that for someone.
Our attitudes influence more than just ourselves. If we’re going to change our body culture, we have to change our habits. Even those that are socially reinforced, even those that can be pleasant and bonding, as negative body talk so often can be. We owe it to women everywhere to love our bodies as they are.
And we especially owe it to little girls.
* * *
Unroast: Kate here. I’m going to do my own unroast because Anna is off having a baby and didn’t have time to write one. So today I love my whole weird body, for being itself. No one looks quite like me. And sometimes that’s pretty cool.
Good luck with the birth, Anna! You’re awesome! We can’t wait to hear all about your baby!
Kate on July 21st 2011 in Uncategorized
Andee responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 10:43 am #
Good Luck Anna! Thank you for writing this; I’ve never thought about this; and it makes complete awesome sense!
Mandy responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 10:58 am #
I didn’t notice that in this culture, we’re socialized to have this toxic (and it IS toxic) habit of relating to other women by criticizing our own bodies–until I was writing a research paper on unrealistic female body image for a class when I was 32 (I am 45 now.).
What really disturbs me is that it’s so ingrained, that I never even noticed it until I wrote that paper.
Kudos to Anna for noticing so much earlier than I did! And even more kudos for pointing this out to other women! Like any bad habit, the first step to changing it is catching ourselves doing it.
Also, many thanks to Kate for instituting the unroast–a good habit to replace the bad!
Unroast: Today, I love my unique body, with it’s similarities and differences to those of my female ancestors. It has shaped (pun intended) the person I am today.
And I love who I am, now, and who I’m turning into!
San D responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 11:09 am #
We also owe little girls the confidence to say “I know I am (fill in the blanks here), but that doesn’t define all that I am”. I used to say to my students “I am round, and that too is a shape”. My sister and I are polar opposites in looks and shape. She, thin, blonde, straight hair, me, round, brunette, curly top. Had I been thin and blond, I daresay I would be a totally different person, because of choices that I made, partly defined by my looks and sensibilities. I know over the years of teaching that I was a role model for all of my high school young women students who did not fit the mold made by advertisements and our culture. They told me so, as did the young men who said to me that I was like no other woman (mother, aunt, sister, girlfriend, grandmother) that they knew. Of course being an artist and puppeteer probably colored their view too!
Deanna responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 1:10 pm #
I see that picture of you and all I notice is that gorgeous thick long brain you have. I find beautiful hair to be the most wonderful thing a woman can have. Me…I have sort of curly sort of frizzy mid length hair that won’t grow much past my bra line and won’t hold any style for the time it takes to touch my toes. A man I dated once told me I was attractive but had bad hair. I don’t think anyone has ever said to me that I had lovely hair. So that’s what I always notice.
You’re right. If a bunch of us ladies were sitting around talking and someone came in and said she loved her body and face…we’d probably toss her out on her lovely behind.
When I was 19 I knew a girl who used to tell me all the time how beautiful she was and how all the men loved her. I didn’t get it because although she had pretty hair..she was no beauty. Me…I spent Saturday nights reading and doing yoga while she went out with lots of men (or so she said).
Best of luck. Having a baby is an awesome experience and one I got to two twice!
Jak responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 1:18 pm #
I have a part of my family that is like that as well. Some are tall and skinny, some are short and skinny, but me and one other cousin do not fit either of those molds. I have noticed there is far more praise for the skinnier ones. Not that they say bad things about me and the other cousin, they just don’t say much about us period. Trust me, Anna, your cousin’s daughter is listening very carefully and noticing what you’re saying.
Thank you for this post, it reminds me of what I want to prove with my life. I’ve forgotten for a little while.
Dee responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 2:00 pm #
I loved this post because although we don’t have this type of banter in my family or at least I have never experienced it (I’m the home-schooling outsider) I have heard others make critical remarks behind someone’s back about their physical appearance. They probably talk about me since in the past 40 years I have gained 100 pounds! I too have a shape – round! 🙂 I am raising a 12 years old who is insecure about her physical appearance and I don’t know where that comes from because she never heard it from me. I always say you learn some good stuff on T.V. but I guess you also learn some not so good stuff on ABC Family teen and pre-teen shows. Anyway let’s all try to stop the madness and be happy with the woman inside.
@Deanna – I love your Freudian slip – yes she does have a gorgeous thick long “brain!”
Jennifer Jo responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 5:06 pm #
An excellent post. I totally agree. For this reason, I never talk about dieting or my poochy tummy around my kids. I talk about strength and health and beauty. I won’t know till they grow up if it’s made any difference, though. For that I’ll have to wait and see.
MarieElizabeth responded on 21 Jul 2011 at 11:21 pm #
Well said Anna, and congrats on that baby! I understand being that person in the family, it took a while to understand while different, I had some strengths the other didn’t have. That made it better to be a good example for my nieces, who look like me.
Jen responded on 22 Jul 2011 at 8:08 am #
Wow–timely.
The line, “…by not loving and respecting myself, I have blown my opportunity to be that for someone,” is so simple and true, it should be a mantra. Girls are looking. I did it. I still do it. Whenever I see a tall woman with a square-ish backside, wide shoulders and boobs, I think, “That’s what I look like to someone else.” And I watch her, looking for beauty in another when it’s so sparse in the mirror.
Two days ago, my daughter observed that, compared to our ballet teacher (we both take a class), I am “a bit chubby.” She said it lovingly, though, like stating that my hair is shorter or my eyes are brown and hers are blue.
In my head, I went through a cascade of denial, defense, attacking the teacher…but out of my mouth came the words: “Yes. I am.”
She added: “But she’s really skinny, Mom.”
Also, despite having fantasies on surgery to get a smaller, straighter nose, getting surgery and “fixing” it would be like flicking on the “I’m not fine the way I am!” alarm for my eight year old.
Dawn responded on 22 Jul 2011 at 8:27 am #
Dear Anna,
You’re brilliant. And what a glorious, pregnant body you get to live in. Beautiful!
I might have Monkey Genes. Mayabe that’s why I adore you so.
I was the Monkey Butt of everyone’s joke in my family. When I had a daughther, it simply was not allowed.
When my daughter was old enough to draw pictures of beautiful girls, they all had big, muscular legs…just like me.
Her older brother watched her from a distance the other day as she walked into work. “She has the most beautiful shape,” he said. “I brag about her to all of my MMA buddies. I tell them how she could put them to shame in chin-ups…”
The beauty of homeschooling…
…or maybe, just the beauty of unconditional acceptence.
In any case, how sweet that someone like you gets to bring a child into a world that can sometimes be so cruel.
anna responded on 22 Jul 2011 at 2:03 pm #
wow, thanks so much for the kind comments, everybody. i wish i could respond to them each. i am a week overdue now and anxiously awaiting baby and so a bit distracted from the blogging world. but i really appreciate everyone’s kind thoughts, on the article as well as my pregnancy (and my hair! although i expect about half of it will fall out after i deliver :)). thank you for taking the time to read and comment!
and thank you so much kate, for letting me do a second guest post. i love the community you’ve built here.
Kate responded on 22 Jul 2011 at 2:17 pm #
@Anna
You’re here! I didn’t want to write to you, in case you were busy taking care of the new baby. But apparently your baby knows its own mind, and isn’t afraid to be stubborn. I don’t see why it’d want to come out, when it’s so comfortable inside 🙂
I’ve been loving reading this amazing comments, too.
And you’re always welcome to write stuff for me! Thank YOU.
donna responded on 24 Jul 2011 at 7:56 am #
I love to see women engaging in meaningful dialogue about true beauty, as I see here. May I recommend one of the most validating books I’ve read on the subject? “Why Beauty Matters” takes an honest look at why every woman wants to feel physically beautiful, giving justification for that desire along with a healthy perspective on true beauty. Read it, girls! (Lee-Thorp and Hicks).
Sunday Scraps 20 | rosiesaysblog responded on 24 Jul 2011 at 12:35 pm #
[…] BODY: Kate at Eat the Damn Cake had a stellar guest-poster this week named Anna who wrote an essay about the kind of language her young cousins were […]