You'd Be So Pretty If...

Girls and Body Confidence: What Do You Believe?

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:58:12 +0000

Last week, my 13-year-old daughter hit me with some stunning news: "Mom," she said. "I'm going to try out for the school basketball team."

"Really?" I said. "You are?"

I know, I know...that's not exactly a supportive maternal reaction, is it? But you have to understand. My daughter is just under five feet tall -- not exactly what you'd consider basketball player stature. And did I mention that she's never played basketball a day in her life?

"Yup," she said. "I'm going to do it."

"OK," I said as neutrally as I could. "Just do your best."

For three afternoons, she went to try-outs, taking part in grueling exercises with names like "suicides," while also trying to learn the fundamentals of the game. Each night, she'd come home exhausted and one evening, she sat on the couch and said, "Mom, my legs hurt so much."

It sort of broke my heart to see her putting so much effort into this. After all, more than 20 girls were trying out for the team, and many of them were returning players. And with height being such a big part of basketball, frankly I figured she just didn't have the body for it.

Last night, when I picked her up, I had my consolation speech ready: "I know you tried your best, but it was really a long shot since you've never played basketball before and the other girls have a height advantage."

I never got to deliver my speech.

She walked up and said, "I made it" -- delivered, I might add, in a tone that made me wonder why I'd ever doubted her in the first place.

She certainly never doubted herself. Or what her body could do.

And in that moment, I decided: I want to be like her.

Mothers and Daughters: The Body Image Trickle Down

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 13:28:34 +0000

Last week, I wrote about what's been happening in Australia, where several body image activists have been accused of being "too beautiful" to deliver a message of self-acceptance and body love to the "average" woman. I asked my readers if they'd still be willing to listen to my message of self-acceptance if I looked like a supermodel.

Several women wrote to me and said that truthfully, they'd have trouble with that.

I get it...I do.

But through my years of body image struggles -- and through years of watching the number on the scale go down, then up, then down again -- I've learned something important about myself: What you think of me doesn't matter.

Now, I don't mean that the way it sounds...of course you matter! What I mean is that you could look at me and tell me I'm beautiful and even envy the way I look, but if that's not what I see when I look in the mirror, then I'll simply never believe you.

My perception is my truth.

Ask any woman who's ever wanted to lose just five more pounds, or wished that she could just lose that little bit of curve to her hip. If you let it -- if that's your focus -- those pounds or that curve becomes larger and larger in your mind, until you're convinced that it's all anyone else can see and why, oh why, are they telling you you're beautiful? Can't they see the ugliness you see?

A friend sent me a link recently to this post by Sunny Sea Gold, an editor at Glamour magazine. I think she makes an excellent point: We can never know -- never -- what somebody's really thinking when she looks in the mirror. We might look at someone and assume that because we think she's beautiful or skinny or otherwise has a perfect life, that she does, too.

But we'll never know for sure.

Perception is reality. And that's why I try to be conscious of the way I'm treating my body and the way I speak about it. Making an effort to stay positive and to make healthy choices has a ripple effect, not just on my self-perception, but on my daughter's perception of me, too. As I make better choices, I feel better. As I feel better, I act more confident. And as I act more confident, my daughter sees a mom who's happy with herself -- showing her that it's OK to be happy with who she is, too. Those positive feelings trickle down, affecting change in all they touch.

Sure, it may just be trickles. But those trickles have the power to change a generation.

A Moment of Body "Thanksgiving"

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:07:59 +0000

Last week, I wrote about my struggle to help my 13-year-old daughter find a Halloween costume that was fun, but not too sexy. It was no easy task. But in the end, it was a non-issue: The kid never went trick or treating.

Instead, she spent Halloween on the couch, with a fever and an awful case of the flu.

It was a scary six days in our house.

At 13 -- and sometimes, sadly, at 30 and 40 -- we're so busy thinking about all the ways our bodies don't measure up to whatever standard we hold in our heads as "perfect" that we sometimes fail to appreciate the simple pleasure and value of good health.

Normally, I'm the kind of mom who'll talk about anything, and I don't typically shy away from tough or embarrassing topics when talking to my kids. I'm a firm believer that knowledge is power, and that being truthful is the best course of action. But last week, I hid something from my daughter.

The night before my daughter got really sick, a healthy, athletic 12-year-old girl in the next town over died from the swine flu virus. The next morning, I took the front page of the newspaper with that girl's story and picture splashed across it, and hid it in the stack of recycling.

I just couldn't even go there.

But later that morning, as I was making her cocoa in the kitchen and she lay on the couch watching the TODAY show, I heard the local newscaster break in with a report on the little girl. Two seconds later, I heard my daughter's feet on the floor and when I turned around, there she stood, tears on her face and absolute terror in her eyes.

I hugged her, and just kept saying, "It's OK. You're OK," over and over again.

There's an ending of innocence that comes when you realize that people your age can, and do, die. I fear I watched that moment happen in my kitchen last week.

She's healthy now, back to school and friends and activities, and I'm incredibly grateful for that. My heart goes out to each and every parent who's worried about a sick child, or dealing with an unthinkable loss.

Sure, you may not always be happy with the way you look or the way your clothes fit or the way you feel other people perceive you. But if you're healthy -- and if those you love are healthy -- today's the day to stop and take a moment, right now, to say thanks.

Halloween costumes: Is sexy empowering?

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 14:30:44 +0000

Earlier this week, I wrote a post on my You'd Be So Pretty If... blog about my daughter's search for a Halloween costume. Given the reaction it got, I'm reprinting it here:

I'm not usually a big ranter -- in public, anyway -- but at what point did a "holiday" for children become all about women looking sexy?

Last week, I took my kids to a local Halloween store (one of those places that moves in temporarily in the month before Halloween) to look for costumes. My son, who's 11, made a beeline for the scariest costumes he could find, and ended up choosing this freaky, demented-looking jester mask that gives me the willies every time I look at it.

But I digress...

My daughter (who has hated Halloween and all things scary since the day she was born) and I spent some time in the women's costume area, where she planned to examine the happier costumes -- she's still on the fence about whether she's going to take part in festivities at all -- in case she found one she liked.

What we saw in that department was even scarier.

My family is Scottish, so when I spotted a plaid kilt, I said, "Hey, look at this one." I walked up to the package, took one look and said, "Never mind."

My 13-year-old will not be dressing as the "Sexy Scottie" this year.

We combed through dozens of costumes, but she left the store empty-handed. There wasn't much choice for a young lady who's beyond fairy princesses, but not quite ready for "sexy sorceress."

When I got home, I searched online a bit where I found -- I kid you not -- plenty of choices like "sexy dirty cop," "sexy school girl," "Playboy Touchdown Tease" and -- wait for it -- "Captain Booty Pirate."

Sigh.

Before you call me a stick in the mud, I realize that Halloween is about make-believe and, to some degree, maybe even living out a fantasy version of yourself. But from looking at some of these costumes, it's pretty clear whose fantasy it is.

I'm still holding out hope for the "I feel great about who I am and I don't need you to tell me what that should look like" costume.

But I guess it's too hard to fit all that on a package.

Quite a few people commented on the post, many of whom seem to have had similar experiences. One commenter in particular noted, "For some reason, people think it's empowering for women to reveal it all."

Well...what do you think?

There's no denying that, as a woman, there is a certain sense of power that comes from knowing all eyes are on you. But feeling like all eyes are on you can also be very uncomfortable when you don't feel good about your body or the way you look. Motivation and intention come into play -- if you're proud of your body and like to show it off, then sure, I guess a revealing costume could be empowering. But if you're dressing that way because you feel it's expected or it's fulfilling someone else's needs, it seems like that would be anything but empowering.

One thing I do know for sure, though: It's the rare 13-year-old who's ready to make that decision.

What We Don't Say Out Loud: The Internal Dialogue

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 13:02:04 +0000

As Delta Delta Delta sorority's "Fat Talk Free Week" comes to a close, I'm curious: How did you do?

Were you able to refrain from making critical comments about your body? Were you able to avoid making jokes at your own expense? It's a noble effort on the sorority's part -- to bring awareness to the world of the unkind words that women hurl at themselves, too often under the guise of female bonding.

But there's another kind of "fat talk" that's less obvious. I'm talking about the internal dialogue we have with ourselves. True freedom from "fat talk" isn't just about biting your tongue before the self-criticism escapes your lips; it's about silencing the inner voice that tells us we aren't good enough...that we must "improve" ourselves...that we can be "perfect," if we'd just try hard enough.

It's a battle that takes much more than a week to fight.

Over and over, I hear from women that they want to accept themselves. They want to let go of the chase for elusive perfection. After a lifetime of waging this internal war, they want peace.

But how?

It starts, I think, with the uncompromising belief that we can choose -- at any moment -- how we're going to react to what comes our way. Please don't mistake me for saying that people aren't entitled to their feelings. We're human, and sometimes we'll feel sad, jealous, envious, inferior and all the other emotions we use to put ourselves down. But when those waves of feelings roll in, I'm confident that it's always my choice as to how I want to see myself. Like standing in the surf, I can let that wave drag me down or I can let it wash over me and stand back up. It's my choice.

Sound easy? Nope...it isn't.

But recognizing my ability to choose is an incredibly powerful thing. Every time I make the choice to treat my body well with reasonable exercise and healthy foods, I send myself -- and the world -- a message. Every time I choose to replace an unkind thought about myself with a more positive and forgiving thought, I'm consciously changing that internal dialogue. As the dialogue changes, so does the behavior. When I think confidently -- even if I have to fake it to myself a bit at first -- I begin to act confidently. And when I act confidently, the world meets a different person.

In my experience, people haven't treated me differently because I've lost or gained weight. Those differences have happened because of how I felt about having lost or gained weight. It's my internal dialogue and the feelings it creates in me that has shaped the way I see and react to those around me. When I haven't felt good about myself -- when my internal dialogue is negative -- I don't want you to look at me or talk to me. Guess what you see? An unfriendly, aloof person. Negativity feeds on itself.

Try this experiment today: Every time you have an unkind thought about yourself, say, "That isn't true." Act as if you're the person you've always wanted to be. Turn off the internal "fat talk," or whatever dialogue it is that keeps you feeling unconfident. Greet the world as your version of your best self.

Let me know how it goes...

Talking to Your Body: Keep It Positive

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:52:59 +0000

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of attending a group discussion of my book, You'd Be So Pretty If...: Teaching Our Daughters to Love Their Bodies -- Even When We Don't Love Our Own. It was a great discussion, filled with lots of laughter, sharing and genuine concern for how the things we say to our kids affect them and who they become.

At one point, though, one woman -- her frustration clear -- said: "I just wish I had a script. How do I know the positive things to say to help my daughter feel good about her body?"

I paused for a moment before telling her I think that's the key: Keeping it positive.

We can all find something to criticize about ourselves. I could write out a list right here and now of the things I wish I could change about myself. But I could also create a list of things I like about myself. The reality, though, is that I'm less likely to do that.

Why?

Well, I have my theories. Growing up in a family where it was a definite no-no to "think too much of yourself," pointing out the positive (about myself) sometimes gives me an icky, "I'm doing something wrong" feeling. Then, there's the girl bonding that takes place over "fat talk." In my book, I relate a story of sitting around the table with some female friends at a dinner party (while the guys were in the other room watching TV, I might add) when the topic turned to weight. It quickly became one of those "I'm so fat" conversations; you know the ones: "I'm fatter." "You think you're fat? Look at this!"

"Fat talk" is a socially acceptable way for women to connect.

Rarely will you hear women sitting around talking about what they like about their bodies. When I mentioned how I feel about my "great shoulders" yesterday, I swear I felt a palpable moment of discomfort in the room.

OK, maybe I imagined it. But think about the last time you heard a woman praise her own body. If you were lucky enough to bear witness to that rare occurrence, how did it make you feel?

At yesterday's book group, I talked about the importance of letting your daughter hear you speak positively about yourself. Here's why: First, it teaches her that even though we may not look like the glamorous supermodels we see in the media, we can like ourselves just fine. Second, it teachers her to look for the good in herself. And, finally, it teaches her that she doesn't need to point out her "flaws" to others. When we speak positively about ourselves and others, we give them "permission" to speak positively about themselves, too.

On Monday, Delta Delta Delta sorority will kick off its "Fat Talk Free" Week, an initiative designed to encourage women to be aware of what they're saying about their bodies and to consciously choose to speak positively about themselves. Watch this video to get a sense of what a pervasive problem "fat talk" really is -- and why we need to change things for our daughters.

The Mom I Want to Be

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 16:06:16 +0000

Last week, I wrote about a comment someone made to my 13-year-old daughter and me, saying we look like we could be sisters. While it’s true that I’ve only got about an inch in height on her and her shoes are now bigger than mine, in many ways, she’s still my little girl.

Let me re-phrase that in case she’s reading this: She may not be a little girl anymore, but she’ll always be my baby.

I came across a fascinating article at Forbes.com recently about “best-friend moms.” According to the article, “best-friend moms” are those moms who slide out of the mother role and into the pal role as their teenage daughters get older. As I read the piece, I had to stop and reflect for a moment: Is that me?

Nah.

My relationship with my daughter is certainly changing as she gets older. We laugh about different things now and talk about topics I’d have waited until she left the room to discuss just a few years ago. I consider us close, but there’s not a doubt in my mind – or in hers – that I’m still capable of doling out the discipline when I need to.

That’s a good thing. She has plenty of friends. But I’m it in the mom department.

I took her shopping just yesterday to a store that specializes in trendy items. As we walked across the parking lot, I thought maybe I’d take a quick look to see if I could find something for myself, too. One look at the store’s displays changed my mind; I saw so many items that looked like they’d been plucked from the 80s and you know what they say: If you wore it the first time it was trendy, you shouldn’t be wearing it the next time.

I’m joking, of course, but there’s a grain of truth to it, too. Part of aging gracefully – and setting a healthy body image example while doing it – is embracing who you are today. I’m all for being stylish and hip, but I don’t need to dress like a teenager to do it.

My daughter doesn’t need a mom who can prove that she’s still cool enough to wear all the latest trends and shop in the juniors department, too. What she needs is a mom who’ll show her what healthy confidence looks like at any age.

That’s the mom I want to be.

The Body Image Moment I've Been Waiting For...

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 12:33:01 +0000

Last week, my 13-year-old daughter and I were taking a walk along a wooded hiking path when a woman approached us from the opposite direction. I smiled at her and she said, "You two must be mother and daughter, but you look like you could be sisters."

We laughed and exchanged pleasantries, but as we walked on, I glanced over at my daughter. I could see the wheels turning. She was quiet for a moment, then she said, "Do you really think we look alike, mom?"

"Some parts of us do," I told her. "But I also see your dad and your grandmother in you."

When I was a child, I often heard comments that I looked like this one or that one, but I never paid much attention. I remember full well, though, being a teenager and having somebody say, "You look just like your mother." An innocent comment, right? A compliment, even. Back then, I wasn't so sure. See, my mom didn't like the way she looked -- and I knew it.

That innocent comment became the basis for You'd Be So Pretty If..., my body image book for moms. Having had my own experience -- and talking to so many other women and girls who've had their own experiences with their moms -- I know how important it is to show our daughters that we're happy with who we are and what we look like. Because that comment is coming. Somebody, somewhere, is going to to tell your daughter that she looks like you. And in that moment, she's going to run a tape of every critical comment you ever made about your appearance in front of her and start to point those criticisms at herself.

Though I sometimes struggle with feeling positive about my appearance -- and, if we're being honest, what woman doesn't? -- I've made a conscious effort to speak positively about my body in front of my daughter and to show her, by example, that taking care of the body I have is a priority for me. Because I knew this day was coming. And when it did, I wanted her to know that I don't think looking like me is a bad thing.

I've talked with many moms who struggle with feeling good about their bodies and I'm often asked how you can set a positive example for your daughter, if you're not confident yourself. Here's what I suggest:

Examine your expectations. Are you holding yourself to a standard that's no longer realistic for you (Like expecting your body to look like it did when you were 22 or before you had children)? It's OK for your body to change. Honor that by taking the best care you can of the body you have today.
Strive for at least one a day. I'm not talking vitamins -- I mean positive comments. Let her hear you say at least one positive thing about your appearance every single day. You'll teach her to look for the good in herself, too.
Aim for balance. Let her see you eat your veggies and take a walk (better yet, invite her to come with you). But let her see you treat yourself to a cookie or a cup of cocoa, too. You'll show her that good health means good choices most of the time, but there's no need to be rigid.
Let it go. Let her see you relax and enjoy doing the things you want to do. Eliminate the phrases "I'm too fat to..." or "I'm too old to..." from your vocabulary.

Simple shifts in thinking and speaking can have a huge impact not only on your daughter's body image, but on yours, too. Try it today!

Be Kind to Your Body Today

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 14:40:50 +0000

I've been displaced from my home office all week (thanks to the installation of a new floor), working remotely from the library and anywhere else I can find an Internet connection. It's been a frustrating, stressful week of trying to get things done without the comfort of my normal routines and usual workspace. Once again, I'm reminded of the importance of embracing the "imperfect;" things are getting done, but frankly, it isn't pretty.

Yesterday, I had a much scarier reminder of keeping "perfect" in perspective.

I sought some respite from my stressful week at an exercise class I really enjoy. In the ladies room before class -- as often happens -- I was chatting with one of the other exercisers. She mentioned that she'd gained weight recently and wanted to know more about the eating plan I followed during my year as Shape magazine's Weight-Loss Diary columnist. As we headed out to class, I couldn't help but think that she looked great. The "flaws" she saw just weren't visible to me.

After a grueling class, we were putting stability balls away in the closet when a piece of wood suddenly fell, hitting her on the head. Within seconds, she was on the floor, her head bleeding. Watching the rescue come and the EMTs strap her to a back board was one of the scariest things I've witnessed in a long time.

Fortunately, after a few stitches, she's fine. But the whole incident was a reminder of how quickly things can change. Though most of us appreciate the value of our good health when we stop to think about it, it's all too easy sometimes to simply focus on what we need to do next or what we'd like to change about ourselves.

Modeling an "attitude of gratitude" toward our bodies doesn't always come easy. But after witnessing those scary minutes yesterday, I'm going to try to remember to be just a little kinder to my body today.

What Do You Think? It's Your Choice.

Dara Chadwick — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 14:02:45 +0000

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit in with a class of eighth-graders during a meeting with the state's commissioner of education. It was the usual "stay in school, do your best" sort of conversation until the commissioner brought up the implementation of certain policies. She asked specifically about testing and how the kids thought test results should be used -- to make decisions about high school placement, etc.?

One girl raised her hand and said, "I don't think it's fair to use test results that way. I get really nervous and I always do bad on tests."

I expected the commissioner to launch into a discussion of the value of testing; instead, her expression grew serious as she told the student how important it was that she stop telling herself that she was bad at taking tests.

Now she had my attention!

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you know full well by now that I'm a huge believer that what we tell ourselves about ourselves has a profound impact on who and what we ultimately become. If you think you're the "fat girl" that nobody's interested in, chances are good you'll never raise your hand to join the class discussion. If you're the boy who's constantly worried about whether the other guys think you're cool enough, you're probably not focused on the task at hand. What kids tell themselves -- all the ways they worry that they're not good enough -- shapes the educational experience they have on a daily basis.

It was really gratifying, and interesting, to witness the commissioner helping the kids make that connection. She told the student, "If you tell yourself that you're bad at taking tests, you won't do well. I challenge you to tell yourself that you're a great test taker."

She understood that what kids tell themselves matters at a deep level. Kids need adults -- role models -- who acknowledge that, and teach them the value of speaking to themselves and about themselves in a positive way. Helping kids learn to challenge the negative thoughts -- "I'm bad at taking tests," "I'm so stupid," "I'm so ugly." -- that use so much of a middle-schooler's brain power should be more than just part of every health curriculum. It should be behavior that's modeled by the adults around them every day.

As parents, we play a huge part in helping our kids challenge negative thoughts. Every time my children see me face a fear or choose to see myself in a different way, they're learning something powerful: That the thoughts I choose to focus on are just that -- my choice.

Just like their thoughts are their choice..now that's a powerful lesson.