Like far too many women in our culture (is it dangerous to say "most women"?), I've grown up surrounded by messages that I need to be skinny to be attractive. Fortunately for me, I'm of a build that has relieved me of any legitimate need to worry about my weight. Unfortunately for me, I'm of a weak enough constitution that those pervasive cultural messages have still managed to imprint on me a nagging need to criticize my reflection. My brain seems to have divided itself into two camps: the Intellectual Part, which knows that I am not fat and that I am an idiot if I perceive anything to the contrary; and the Idiotic Part, which thinks I'm fat. Since generally the Intellectual Part is at the helm, I walk around giving most people the impression that I am sane, at least in regard to weight. However, every once in a while, the mutinous Idiotic Part elbows her way to the surface and causes me to say things such as, "Sure, I'll have another cookie -- may as well pad my fat butt some more" or "Look at the size of the impression my fat ass just left in the couch." I don't really believe that I am fat. But some flimsy part of me believes that I would be more attractive if I were just a little bit thinner. Sadly, these moments of weakness seem to occur almost exclusively in front of my husband, who is anything but amused by them. He loves the way I look (I know this with absolute certainty, so why the Idiotic comments?!) and is truly, profoundly irritated by me saying things that make me sound stupid.
Last night I announced a new phase ... to a press conference of one, namely, Brandon. I am going to make a concerted effort to squelch the Idiotic Part. Because here is the thing: I have a daughter now. I might actually be considered a role model at some point. And I will NOT have my daughter looking at her beautiful reflection and thinking things as baseless and lame as "I am fat." I mean, if she somehow defies the statistics of her gene pool and manages to be on the stout side, I might be somewhat concerned in light of the increased incidence of children developing Type 2 diabetes (and lord knows I'm highly motivated to keep her away from becoming another diabetes statistic), but I am so sure that there are so many more respectable ways for her to use her brains than for criticizing her own weight. I hate myself when I do it, it infuriates me when I hear other thin women do it (don't we have anything more important to think about? are we really this shallow??), I will not have my daughter doing it. There.
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