Secret Me

I’ve never told anyone this story.

But when I was in 8th grade, I once went into the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the fan & a mix tape, and tried to make myself throw up.

Weeks prior, we had taken a class trip and stayed in a hotel on the way. One night we were allowed to swim in the hotel’s indoor pool, and a classmate called me a whale after I jumped in the pool. I cried afterwards for what felt like hours.

This incident has always been burned into my brain. Lots of details about my adolescent years are becoming fuzzy now, but not that night in the pool.

I’m not bulimic and I never locked the bathroom door (for that purpose) again. But I’ve carried with me a negative body image that I just can’t seem to let go.

I don’t blame this on my classmate in the pool nor do I blame it on my father, who once told me I might get up the court quicker if I lost a few pounds. Let’s be clear. I’m not overweight. But I’m curvy and hippy and, depending on the time in my life, could stand to lose five (or ten) pounds. I’ve also had two children. I know you’re supposed to look at your beautiful mom body and think what a gift that extra stomach pudge is, but really, who thinks that? I think maybe liposuction would be worth a couple paychecks. I’m just kidding.

Sort of.

Maybe it is the magazines and the media and all of those Victoria’s Secret ads. Maybe it’s the entire fashion industry. Four weeks after my daughter was born, I was the maid of honor in my sister’s wedding. I went post-baby body to Nordstrom to find a dress to wear. Tried on one that I loved, but it was a tad too tight to zip up all the way. I asked the saleswoman to bring me the next size.

“This designer does not make dresses up to that size.” That was her polite (sort of) way of saying the dress I had on, the one that wouldn’t zip up, was the biggest size the designer made. Biggest. Four weeks post-baby and I needed a size 12. She was sweet and kind and none of this was her fault, but what I heard her say was you are fat you are big you don’t even fit into our designer dresses.

Really?

At thirty-five, there are a lot of things in life I’ve finally figured out; and I’ve written about many of them in my blog. But the one thing I can’t quite overcome is that feeling I got today while trying on shorts for summer.

I am desperate NOT to pass this feeling/issue/complex on to my daughter. She’s almost six, and while I’m sure the world is sending her subtle messages all the time about what beauty is, she doesn’t seem to be aware of them. Although she did once point to a stretch mark on my side, crinkled her nose, and asked, “Mom what IS that?” It’s proof that you are mine, sweetie.

Just this past week that Dove video clip about body image went viral. I get it. We are too hard on ourselves. We are more beautiful than we think. We are smart, brave, kind.

That’s what I will teach her. And I’ll hope that the world doesn’t try too hard to prove me wrong.

Nicole is a former English teacher turned school counselor during the day. After her kids are tucked in and asleep at night, she loves to read, catch up on her favorite shows, and write for her blog, From Cleveland. WIth Love.