Little Miss came home from kindy the other day excitedly talking about the big, fat giant who had been chasing her and her friends that day. Hold up – what?
Fat??
Where the fuck did she get that from?
We don’t use that F word in our house. Fuck gets plenty of usage (although never around the kiddies), and a few other swear words get thrown around a fair bit too (not the C word though, that will always be "see you next Tuesday" for me!).
But that other F word. Nope. That word, to me, is worse than any swear word.
After years of struggling with my own negative body image, with that evil little voice inside my head saying “you’re too fat, too fat, too fat”, I try to be really mindful of how I talk about our bodies with my Little Miss.
We talk about being strong, and fast, and how good her body is at running and jumping and dancing. I try not to talk too much about her being beautiful, or pretty, but focus instead on her being clever, kind and funny.
On those days when my clothes are a little tight, and I feel a bit frumpier than usual, I still make sure I never complain about my big bum, or my squishy tummy, in front of her.
I try to censor her TV shows so she’s not watching things like Barbie (FFS have you seen that show??), or adult programs where women constantly complain about themselves (most reality TV these days). But to my frustration I’ve discovered that lots of kids’ programs include insidious negative body image messages too. I felt so sad the first time Little Miss told me she had a “big tummy”, and wondered who had told her that. But then I realised that it was Daddy Pig’s fault; he’s always talking about his big tummy, in his funny, self-deprecating way. At only 3 Little Miss isn't thinking about having a big tummy as a good or bad thing yet, but what about when she’s 4? Or 5? Or 12?
A woman I got chatting to told me that she gets her 4 year old daughter to review her outfit every day before she goes to work, and asks whether her bum looks big in whatever she’s wearing. Her little girl responds with things like “oh, you look sexy mummy”, or “not those pants mummy, your bum looks fat”. The woman laughed, but I was horrified. Sexy is right up there next to fat in the list of words I don’t want coming out of my preschooler’s mouth.
I'm no prude, but words can hurt.
Words can cause long-lasting damage.
I still remember a family ‘friend’ commenting on my thunder thighs when I was about 8 years old. That comment hurt then, and it still stings now, nearly 30 years later. I remember being called big, blonde and beautiful when I was about 12. It was intended as a compliment, but it made me think that that’s all I was. Nothing else. No substance. No personality. No brain. Just blonde hair, a pretty face and a big, fat body.
Words can be weapons. Bullets flying thick and fast at your confidence, your sense of self. They can stab you like a knife, or lie in wait like a bomb, exploding in your psyche when you least expect.
But words can also become your armour; they can build your confidence, and give you strength. Words can empower you and make you proud of who you are.
So with my Little Miss, we'll keep talking about how strong she is, how fast she can run, how high she can jump. She wants to grow up ‘big and strong’ like mummy, and she likes to wear her aunty’s high heels so she’s ‘as high as a tower’, not to be sexy.
I tell her I’m proud of her for being so clever, such a caring big sister, so helpful when we go to the shops. I try not to make a big deal out of how cute she looks in her dress-ups, or when she gets her face painted (this is really tough, because she does look super cute!), and when I do tell her she looks beautiful, I also try to throw in something that’s not about her physical appearance. Like how well she dances, or how good she is at writing her name.
I want her to value her mind, her personality, her spirit, rather than obsess about her appearance. I want her to be strong enough to know who she is, and not be bullied or persuaded into becoming someone else. I want her to feel free to become whoever she wants to be, without fear or self-doubt or self-loathing. I want her to love herself, always. I don't want 'fat' to be in her internal vocabulary.
Maybe I’m over-thinking it, creating a mountain out of a molehill because of my own sensitivities and insecurities. But I don’t think so.
For now, that other F word is not welcome in our house.
Do you agree? Do you think the word ‘fat’ can be damaging? Or is it just an adjective?
