Own yourself

Once a week I teach a strength and conditioning class for a competitive local swim team. The kids range in ages for 12-17 and all of them are a pleasure to coach. Each class is different, fun, and challenging both for me and them. As the weeks have gone on, I have gotten to know each kid and get a glimpse into their lives and the challenges and joys of our youth today.

 A couple weeks ago I was talking to one girl who was having difficulties preforming certain exercises. Her low back really hurt when we did certain core work—especially crunch type movements. She went on to say she had been in and out of physical therapy for a couple years. Her lower core was really weak. I probed for further explanation of exercises that hurt and ones that didn’t. Finally she gave in, “I’m just so tall, and I’ve always wanted to not be so tall. The taller I got, the more I slouched so I wouldn’t seem so tall.

 Ok. Wait. WHAT? You’re so tall and you don’t want to be so tall!? Let’s back up. I am 5’3. When I was this girls’ age, I always wanted to be taller. Just a little taller. One more inch and I would be happy. EVERYONE was taller than me. And this girl had the body my teenage self dreamed of having: 5’8, rail thin, but somehow still had curves even before she grew all the way into herself. And here she was, wishing she wasn’t so tall, doing anything possible to make herself shorter. Even slouching to the point of hurting herself and needing to go to physical therapy.

 I gave the rest of the class enough exercises to occupy themselves for awhile, and then sat down to have a nice chat with this girl. We talked about her posture, how after awhile her poor posture stretched out certain muscles, and shortened and weekend other muscle. Because of this muscle imbalance, when it came time for her to preform certain exercises, she simply could not do them. We talked about corrective exercises, and stretching she could do to counter-act this issue. All the things we talked about, I’m sure she had heard from at least one physical therapist before she heard it from me, her trainer.

 Its been a few weeks since this incident, but I keep playing it over in my head. I’m glad I said to her what I did say, but there is so much more I wish I had said. Maybe some things that no one has said to her before. Or at least some things she needs to here more often.

 I wish I had told her that she had a strong, capable, amazing body that allows her to do and see awesome things. I wish I told her, that as a teenager, no one truly feels comfortable in their own skin and body. Give it a couple years, you’ll get there. Stand up straight. Be proud of those hella long legs that reach my shoulders. Dang girl! Own your body and you will own the world! Believe me, no happiness comes from wanting to be taller, shorter, smaller feet, perkier boobs, brown eyes, smaller ears, etc., etc., And everyone has certain things they wish they could tweak--work to change what you can, like strengthening that lower core.

 I didn’t tell her any of that. I wish I did. There are certain things within our bodies we can change, like BMI, and aerobic threshold, and there are other things we can’t change and no happiness comes from wishing we could.

 Gone are the days I wish I were taller. I love being 5’3. It has some serious perks, like still being able to shop in the girls department, and not standing a head above everyone else if I decide to wear six inch heels. Yes, it does have some disadvantages—not every pair of pants looks good with a cuffed hem. But, dang girl! Own your 5'3 self, embrace the body you got. Take care of it. Be good to it. You'll never regret loving yourself.

A life-long gift from Mother to Daughter

I am a mom. And for the past 3 1/2 years that I have been able to claim the title, Mother, my relationship with my own mother has grown, changed, been analyzed, and appreciated more than it ever had been. I have an awesome mom. My mothering skills have got a looooong way to go before they can come close to those of my Mother's. She is selfless, kind, funny, gentle, smart. So smart. She is an angel. But one of the things I love most about my mother is her confidence. Not that she is overly confident or over-bearing in her confidence. But she was always confident in her self, sure of her self and her place in the world.

She taught me to be that way myself. And if there is one single thing that has impacted my life in all aspects, it has been that same confidence in myself, the confidence my mother taught me.

When I was little, I can remember watching my mom as she put on make-up and curled her hair. She was beautiful. I remember when she would come home after walking up and down the hill a couple times, and she would be covered in sweat, no make-up, no curled hair, and she was still beautiful. I can't remember how many times as a little girl I was told, "you look like your mom" or "you are beautiful like your mom" and I always believed them---Because Mom WAS beautiful. Beautiful and confident in herself. Beautiful because she was confident in herself.

During Christmas break of my Sophomore year of College, my mom told me she was going on a diet after the New Year. She wanted to loose 30+ pounds. "Why?" I asked. I had never seen my mom as anything but beautiful. No she wasn't a size 4, she was probably a 14, but it had never NEVER occurred to me that she needed to loose weight. She had always been about that size, and was still classy and beautiful and confident. Mom always seemed happy with herself. I don't remember her complaining about her weight once. So, why now, did she need to loose weight? In the nicest way possible she told me if I was ever the same size she was, I would want to loose weight too. And that simple explanation made sense to me. If I was her size, I would want to loose weight.

But my 19 year old self felt totally blind-sided my this. How come I never knew she wanted to loose weight? Why didn't she ever complain about her size? If you're unhappy with your body, you should complain about it, right?

Mom did loose those 30 pounds, and then some. And eight years later she had kept it off.

This is a pivotal story in my life, not because my mother taught me that if you put your mind to something you can accomplish it, but because she taught me NOT to complain about myself, my body, or my appearance to my children, and especially my daughters.

Women, girls, daughters. Most of us are going to deal with body image issues at some point in our lives. We are harassed at every turn with "get the body you've always wanted", beauty tips, hair chops, workouts, supermodels, etc., etc,(because obviously your body the way it is currently is not the body you want). My own stint with body image issues was short and sweet. Because of my mom.

One of the best gifts she ever gave me was loving herself, even if she didn't always love the way she looked, she still loved herself. And now, as a mom, I want nothing more than to teach my daughters that they are beautiful, that they need to love themselves. That they are capable, and smart, and that they don't need others' approval. A mother's example is powerful.

I love my body because of what it allows me to do each day. I love myself. And hopefully, my own daughter will learn to love their body and themselves through my example.