My Five Year Old Told Me She Hated Her Fat Legs
My Five Year Old Told Me She Hated Her Fat Legs, Here's What I Said...
I hate my fat legs mum, they look yucky. Words my five year old daughter said as we drove home from school. With a sinking heart and a pit in my stomach I took a breath. Being bulimic for most of my adult life, I know the crippling effects of self hatred. Being fat, or at least thinking I was, dominated my thoughts, actions and self worth for too many years. The idea of my child going down the same route? Terrifying.
This conversation was one I’d hoped would never happen. Finger crossed, my daughter would beat the odds and grow up automatically loving her body. That was not to be. I was going to have to talk to her about choosing love over hate.
Before I spoke I reminded myself of three things:
1) Her feelings are valid. Telling her not to hate herself would make no difference.
2) Use her language, there is no point in bringing up feminist theory.
3) She doesn’t have years of self hatred under her belt, She didn’t need psychotherapy - a simple conversation would do.
I asked her how she would feel if someone talked to her like she did to her legs.
Darling, if your friends at school called you yucky and told you you were no good, how would you feel? Would you still want to be their friend? Would you feel good in yourself?
No, mum, that would be horrible. I would be sad.
What about when you are told you are loved and cared for and having you around is a wonderful thing?
Like Daddy does? (Excuse me, what about me?)
Yes.
That’s nice when that happens.
I explained the impact of negative thoughts on our body.
Well, it’s the same with our legs. If we say nasty things to them they won’t work so well for us. If we are kind to them they will do a good job. When they are being told nice things, they feel good and then they work better.
I explained her body was the only one she had and treating it well was her job.
We only get one body to live in, so it’s our job to be nice to it and treat it with love and respect. Then it will be healthy and full of energy for our whole life.
But mum, I could just chop these ones off and get new ones (oh to be five!).
That is an option, I guess, but new ones would be very painful and not work as well as the ones you have now. False legs are an amazing invention for people who’s real legs don’t work, but false ones still don’t work as well as your legs do. They don’t run as fast, or jump as high. They can be very painful and you have to take them off when you go to bed and put them on again in the morning. Do you think you would want to do that?
I left it at that and watched her figure it out from there.
Mum, I love my legs. (She starts kissing them and telling them they were doing a good job).
It would be easy to go down the route of complaining about the injustice of having to have this conversation or lament the awfulness of a five year old hating herself. I could spend hours beating myself up about somehow allowing my own journey to have rubbed off on her.
Instead I’m going to focus on how much I have to teach her about self love. I can rest assured that if this is her journey too, I’m a good mum for her to have. Offering empathy and guidance in a area I’ve struggled with is perhaps the best, most important job I’ve ever had.
If you find yourself having the same conversation with your children and need support, reach out. You are up to it. They have chosen well.
ENDS