Childrearing

My Daughter Saying She’s Fat is Way More Disturbing Than Her Saying The Other ‘F’ Word

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Honestly, what has this world come to for our children? I don’t think I worried about being fat ever, except when I was pregnant and during the six months that followed after giving birth.

At ten, my daughter should be worrying about, well, I think nothing at all, except for maybe getting her school work done, keeping safe, and not pissing me off.  So what did I do?

Well, as soon as we arrived back to our condo, we took off our dresses. We stood before a full-length mirror, her in front of me. “Do you think I’m fat?” I asked her. Her answer was “no.” I am, honestly, only slightly wider than her, which I pointed out. “So if I’m not fat, then how can you be fat?” I demanded.

It seemed to satiate her, but I was in such a state of depression, I wanted to eat an entire cheesecake. (Which, of course, I did not say aloud!)

But now I’m super aware.  I don’t even make jokes like, “I’m too fat to sit in this tiny airplane seat!” I will never, and never have, pointed out obese people to her.

Since she asked that one time, a couple weeks ago now, she hasn’t asked again, which means maybe she’s no longer worried about it. Maybe it was a one-off?

I sure hope this is the case, because quite frankly, having a ten year old girl, ask if she’s “fat” makes me want to punch something and sob in a curled up ball.

I suppose I could have yelled at her to, “NEVER ASK ME THAT AGAIN!” but I didn’t want her to think that she couldn’t always ask me anything, without me screaming at her.

Truly, I rather her ask, “Can I say ‘fuck?’” than hear her ever ask me again if she is that other F-word, because the latter is so, so much more disturbing.

(Image: Veronica Louro/shutterstock)

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