The other day as I was walking through Target I saw a girl, around 6 years old, in the razor aisle with her mother. She was begging her mom, "Please don't shave your legs! I love them how they are!" She was literally in tears. I found it a little comical, extremely sweet, and such an amazing reminder that our children love us just as we are.
Motherhood can do a number on a woman's self esteem. Your body stretches to it's max in all sorts of ways, and doesn't easily bounce back to it's prior shape. Your hormones to do weird things to your skin, your mood, your everything. And at the same time you get this tiny human being who thinks you are absolutely perfect. And you think they are perfect, so how could they possibly be wrong?
I can tell you, my self esteem was definitely changed when I had my daughter. Shifted in ways I never knew possible. For instance, I have these two moles on my chest right next to each other, smack dab in the center, and I'd always hated them. I never wore shirts cut low enough that they could be seen. About 5 years ago I went to a dermatologist to have them removed, but they told me that the moles were so light that the scarring would be darker than the moles are, so it wouldn't be worth it. Light? Are you kidding me? I was pretty sure it was all anyone could see! Then when my daughter was born, she would place her hand right on them every time she nursed. And even now, at almost two years old, she often falls asleep with her finger on them, just gently feeling back and forth. I know when she's tired because she reaches for her comfort spot. When she's hurt and reaches our for me, she often puts her hand in my shirt and her crying quiets. A teeny tiny spot on my body that I hated for years, now gives my daughter the comfort she needs to feel safe and calm. Take that, self consciousness!
My daughter is reminding me daily to think about self worth, real beauty, and the messages I'm giving her. I want to raise her with good self esteem, and to love herself just as she is. I know that at some point in girls' lives they have a change in how they view themselves. They stop putting emphasis on being pretty awesome, and just start thinking about being pretty. They stop looking in the mirror and thinking they are rocking that tutu, cape, mismatched shoes, and baseball cap, and start wondering if they're wearing something that will fit in, if their body fits nicely into the right size clothes, and if their face and hair are good enough for everyone else. It breaks my heart to think of my daughter's hurting heart when that stage of life comes up. I wish I could say that it's just a phase in life, but I'm 34 and cringe when I look in the mirror, so I have to be careful what I teach her. She watches me put on makeup every day and she pretends to do the same, but I want her to learn that I put on makeup for me, that I like the way I feel when I wear it, and that she will always be beautiful with or without it. Over the weekend she took an eye shadow brush and was pretending to put makeup on everything. My mom and I were saying things like, "Are you making the doll look pretty?" But we quickly realized that isn't the message we want to give her about makeup. It doesn't make a person pretty and won't make her pretty. She just is pretty on her own; pretty smart, pretty brave, pretty awesome, and those are the things that matter most. So we are thinking of new words to use in times like that, and it will likely be a challenge every day to pick up on small ways that I am shaping her self esteem. But it's a challenge that's worth every second. I wish she could love herself the way I love her, and I also realize it would be amazing if I could love myself the way she loves me. What would you do differently if you loved yourself that much?
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Listen up, my dear
I used to cringe when I walked past a mirror
I'd avert my eyes, or turn down the lights
or pretend the woman looking back
wasn't me
Now here you are
Loving me as I am
Every crack and imperfection
And watching with your wide and smiling eyes
In the bright light of day
Where I can no longer hide
And as you run your tiny toddler hands
over the squishy parts of my belly
I say to you, with pride:
My dear, this is where I grew you
(And lost three who will always live through you)
For 42 weeks (yes, forty two)
I stretched and stretched
and my heart swelled, too
This body of mine made a miracle
And my dear, I made it so perfect and true
that before I ever met you, I knew you