Getting ready for bed tonight and Sissy announced that she was fat.
That's why she "runs slow". She's "fat".
SHES NOT FAT!!!!!!
I'm not blind. She's heavy.
She will probably always struggle with her weight.
She is tall and broad like her mom.
She's 9. You can't be 9 and "fat".
I was once 9.
I put myself on a secret diet with a neighbor girl because we were both "fat".
Then she told me that I used to be fat.
(She's convinced every picture of me at my heaviest is when I was pregnant.)
Bug interjects, "Now you are skinny mommy".
I told him I'd rather be called healthy or strong.
He picked skinny.
Sissy adds, "That's why your run fast, because you aren't fat anymore".
I don't run fast. I run. Not fast.
She is not fat.
It's already started for her.
The insecurity, the comparing, the doubts, the feeling on inadequacy.
Baby girl, you are not fat. You are hard working, dedicated, kind, generous, helpful, compassionate, and funny.
Raising healthy children was one of my number one motivations for losing my weight initially. I wanted them to see what healthy looked like. They see it.
She sees it and feels like, AT 9, that she can't achieve it.
My heart aches for her tonight.
She's 9 and is convinced that she has lost her battle with weight and fitness.
I'll continue to talk about ways that we can care for our bodies. My prayer, for her, is that it won't taker her until she is 34 to realize that she can be so.much.more than fat.