Mom Crimes, Stuart Smalley, and How I Am Learning to Like My Body.

Several years ago, when my oldest daughter was about 2 years old, I caught myself committing a common girl mom crime: verbally criticizing my body and the way clothes were fitting me. I was trying on clothes in front of the full length closet door mirrors in my bedroom while she played on the floor nearby. She was making faces in the mirror and being silly, while I stood next to her, staring at myself wearing some pants and a shirt and saying something akin to, “Ugh, I hate the way I look in this.”

I happened to glance down at her as I said this, initially, I suppose, hoping for a little support. I don’t know what that means, but maybe I wanted her sweet little angel baby voice to say, “Yeah, mama, burn that trash, you look terrible!” But as I glanced down at her, I had an instinctual moment of shame. Not shame for my body, but shame for what I was teaching her about how a woman should feel about her own strong, beautiful body. You see, in that moment, I didn’t feel strong or beautiful. All I could see was my muffin top and the way my thighs looked in the pants I was attempting to wear. But, what I was saying to her was, “I know you see this beautiful superwoman in front of you, baby girl, but I hate the way this body looks.” I was actively downloading information into her beautiful little sponge brain that told her, “look in the mirror and criticize what you see.”

Well, that was it. I vowed, from that moment forward, to never say anything critical about my body out loud again. I always felt sad and angry about the way women, particularly those I knew well, walked around apologizing for or providing explanations for the way they looked. I didn’t like the way they (and I) constantly criticized the bodies we were living in. And even though I was sad about the women I knew doing it, I never thought about how often I was doing it to myself. I couldn’t pass that on to my gorgeous little girl. I realized I had power in this fight, I can stop the process right here and now, with her and me. I, like every mama, want my little girls to look in a mirror and see strength, power, bravery, beauty, and wonder. Well, sisters, that doesn’t just happen because we want it to. Especially in this social culture that has always told women what is appropriate, acceptable, beautiful, and worthwhile. The world is going to tell her what to see unless I jump in first and derail that train. I mean, what is the take away if I tell her that she is strong and beautiful, but she knows I think I am not? Our kids reflect what they see, so it’s time to show not tell.

It got me thinking about when it started for me. When did I start criticizing my own body? It might seem crazy, but I can absolutely tell you the instant it happened for me. I was in middle school. Yeah, I know, no surprise there. But wait, there’s more. I was in the locker room with the rest of my teammates, changing after soccer practice and everyone was chit chatting away – as we do. I happened to hear someone say something like, “Ugh, I hate my ankles! Yours are gorgeous, but mine are just not there – it’s like my calf just turns into a foot!” I remember this, because it seemed like such a weird thing to say. I also remember it because it made me think, “I’ve never thought about my ankles before. Are mine weird?” And I looked down. Nope, not weird, just a piece of my leg that attaches my calf to my foot. Looks fine to me. But as their conversation continued and the other girl criticized her butt or something, I started looking at my own body. I had never thought about my body like that before. Was I supposed to not like something on my body? Is that what we are supposed to do now?

Well, I obviously felt like I was doing something wrong by not critiquing my body. At least 5 girls were now talking about the “thing” they hated. I didn’t want to be left out, so I started assessing the damage. Already addressed the ankles, those seem fine. Butt seems good. Everyone told me how lucky I was to have such great breasts already, so that’s good. Ab muscles, check. My hair was long and natural – most people had highlights or curled it or layered it, so I guess I could work on that. Facial acne, that’s definitely a thing I don’t love. Hmm…anything else? I like my legs, someone told me I had nice calves once. But these thighs, I guess they kind of look bigger than I want. Maybe that’s my thing. I hate my thighs.

And BOOM, just like that, my perspective was changed forever. As they chatted, I threw out, “Yeah, I hate my thighs!” so proud that I had something to contribute. Oh, sweet, innocent, ill informed Heather. If only I could go back and shake that girl by the shoulders and say, “What are you doing? You are gorgeous! You are so strong and capable! You just finished running sprints in soccer. You just hiked The Great Range this past summer! That’s 12 46er mountains, in 2 days, including Marcy – you are a badass! Your thighs are strong and athletic and you wouldn’t have been able to do any of that without them!” But no, instead I was proud of myself for judging my body.

This is what I learned that day and I carried it with me. My ability to criticize myself has only gotten sharper and more focused. I started around age 14 because I thought I was supposed to and I only got harsher with time. It felt addictive. I developed more things to judge, more reasons to shame myself, and more things to feel like I was failing at – always missing the great things I was actually accomplishing with this body I have been given. And there was ammunition all around me – thank you media, magazines, movies, and models! I spent so much time thinking about what people saw when they looked at me. And this goes so much deeper than what society was telling me. I had men in my family who were reinforcing these things for me all the time – defining what was beautiful against what was not. I listened to my father “joke” about my step-mother’s weight. Then, I came home from college once and he asked me, “Oh, are you getting a big ass too?” So many things wrong with that, but the point is, it was coming from every direction. I even looked at my mother – a petite, yet incredibly strong woman who is about my height and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, and asked myself, “Why can’t I be skinny like her or have legs like her or smaller breasts like her?” It feels crazy writing it out, but once I started the critiquing, there was no end to it.

That is until I started to take ownership of this body after my 3rd baby was born. During the course of having a few babies and recovering from each soul shaking body change, I felt what I think a lot of mamas feel: a total detachment from my body. I didn’t recognize this thing I lived inside anymore. It felt like an alien body that was taken over and then handed back to me, broken, stretched, and unrecognizable. I detached from it, scowled at it, and wished for something different. I knew it had done something incredible, but that didn’t remove the disappointment I felt about what I was left with. And that has everything to do with how I was comparing myself to other mamas; to other bodies; to other women – a skill I had been honing for nearly 20 years.

But after my 3rd baby was born, I was already in the middle of a mental body reassignment. I always loved my pregnant body – I always thrived on the body that was able to grow a human and wasn’t ashamed of the curves or the lumps or the marks that were created in its work. It’s always the aftermath of that process that left me feeling detached and sad. Now that the baby was out and all I was left with was a deflated former baby home, the real work began. The internal work. The work where I smiled at myself when I looked in the mirror instead of scowled. When I gave myself a compliment every time I started to criticize what I saw. Instead of, “yikes, that belly is rough, lady” I thought “your messy bun is on point today sister!” Focusing on the good and avoiding mirrors, really helped. The less I looked in mirrors, the less I thought about what was wrong. I also realized that no one else is looking that closely at me, anyway. Every woman you think is noticing the little things you obsess about is not seeing what you see – she is too wrapped up in what she thinks YOU are noticing about HER. And this is a culture that we all participate and exist in.

I started with what was happening in my brain, because the brain is a trained muscle that operates out of habit. So, when I saw another woman who had what I perceived to be a killer body, instead of shaming myself for not looking like her, I would whisper to myself, “Yes girl, you go ahead walking around on those long, amazing legs” celebrating her and leaving me out of it. Her body has nothing to do with me, but I can celebrate her, sending her positive energy instead of making it about me. Because chances are, she’s walking around on those amazing legs worried about whether I notice something else about her. Or if I see a woman running/walking/pushing a stroller/getting her movement in, I say, out loud, “Yes girl, get that workout in. Move that body sister, love it!” I say it even when I have kids in the car, so they can hear me celebrating other women. And then, when I pass myself in the mirror, I don’t stop to criticize what I see. I find something I love and say that to myself, even if I’m not ready to believe it – because retraining my brain has been half, if not most, of the battle. I don’t dislike what I see because my body is wrong, or bad, or ugly. I dislike those things because I have spent decades actively telling myself that they are wrong or bad.

And guess what, it’s working! And do you want to know why? Because you can not shame yourself better. Again for those people in the back – You Can Not Shame Yourself Better. We are taught that if we shame ourselves enough, we will be motivated to get healthy. I can actually recall times I was in fitness classes thinking, “Take that thighs, take it! You will get better, you deserve this!” Like they had done something wrong to me. Guys. This is the level of crazy I am dealing with over here. No good has ever come from shame. I have applied that to my parenting as well, because seriously, no one has ever grown or become better through shame. Our kids can’t be shamed better and neither can we.

You can only love yourself better. Drink the water because your body will love it. Do the movement because you want to wrap your body in love – that is what those endorphins are after the workout, chemical love seeping through your brain. Eat the better food because you want to bless your body after serving you so well. Give yourself compliments, because your brain needs to hear how appreciative you are for being able to walk around and breathe all day with that beautiful heart pumping in your chest. And yes, it might feel weird, or awkward, or silly at first – kind of like that Stuart Smalley SNL bit: “I’m good enough; I’m smart enough; and dog gone it, people like me!” Which was funny at the time, but actually works!

I will also say, I’ve changed the media I’m consuming. For instance, I overhauled my social media platforms. I discovered that there were some accounts that were not working FOR me. Every time I looked at them, I walked away feeling like I was doing something wrong, I wasn’t doing enough, or like I needed to look a certain way in order to feel happy. Mind you, this probably had nothing to do with those actual accounts. I was feeling that way because my brain was hardwired to feel inadequate against the pictures I was seeing. And I’m sure that was not the message they were going for, but it was what I walked away with. So, I started following people that made me feel uplifted. People that made me laugh. Women who were killing it and providing me inspiration instead of comparison. Mamas who probably were struggling with the same things as me. And I’m not saying those fashion bloggers or beauty gurus or what have you are not worth following. You do you! I think there are seasons for everything – and I wasn’t in a season where I needed to see that content. I guess what I am saying is, every so often come up for air in your social media world and ask yourself what you are getting from some of the people you follow.

I’m breaking the cycle of criticism for both myself and my kids. When they talk about their bodies, I always reaffirm for them how strong they must be to do the monkey bars; how fast they can run because of their powerful legs; how amazing their brains are for learning math or learning to read. How the healthy foods they put in their bodies are helping to make them strong and help their brain grow. And when they notice another kid doing something amazing that they want to learn how to do, I teach them to celebrate that person, not envy them – “I know, isn’t it amazing how fast she can run? How high he can climb? I bet they practice a lot to get that good.” I give them the language I want them to have which then reaffirms for my own brain how to see things from a positive perspective.

And that is how change happens – slowly, with repetition, changing the habits you have built that don’t serve you and replacing them with new habits that help you be the best version of yourself – one habit at a time. It’s a labor of love and it should be! And yes, that also means eating better foods more often, drinking more water, and moving your body. We are only given one body with which to walk this Earth. Re-evaluate what your mental habits are with your own body – are they serving you? Are you in a constant shame spiral – “I ate the doughnut in the break room, so now the whole day has gone to hell. I already failed, I might as well eat a pizza and a bag of m&ms and try again tomorrow.” No way! Even if you ate all of that, it’s still not a failure! Eat the thing, own the decision, but the mental gymnastics of shaming yourself are just reupping the cycle and affirming for your brain that you and your body are failing. You are not failing. Your body is not a failure. It is perfectly made in whatever form it’s in. And if you want to FEEL better (not look better) then make a different choice next time. One step at a time, friends. It’s hard to change your mind, believe me, I know. I’ve been over here working on it for some time. But the one thing I have figured out is that there is nothing wrong with me (or you). If you are trying to “get healthy” do that because you mean to eat better food, drink more water, and move more – take better care of yourself. Don’t equate “healthy” with “skinny.” They are not the same thing. You can lose all of the weight and the brain in your head will still look in the mirror and not be happy with what it sees. Rewire that thought process. Becoming healthy is not about fixing what’s wrong with you. Because there is nothing wrong with you. Becoming healthy is about loving yourself enough to want more. So want more for yourself, yes! But do so from a place of love and not shame. We deserve better and so do our daughters!