Children's v society's views on their mother's bodies
how we feel to our kids is more important than how we look to others
I was at a mom’s group in 2006 nursing my infant daughter when I first had this realization. There was a very large woman there, and she was lying on her back on a couch while her 3 year old (who seemed SO grown up to me at the time!) was lying on top of her, totally supported by his mom’s body and utterly at peace.
I thought about all the judgements this woman must face on a daily basis and all the other physical and emotional challenges her body size must bring with it, but how
her child doesn’t give a shit what his mom’s body looks like
He cares about how it feels. How she feels. Her energy, her love, the mothering field that she holds is everything to him. He has no concept of her body being “wrong”. It is simply his mom.
My 7 year old daughter waits outside the shower for me every morning so that she can hug my “squishy belly”. She heaps verbal praise upon my body daily while looking adoringly into my eyes and squeezing me. “Mama I love your belly, your boobs, and your butt SO much!” squeeze hug sigh
I asked her recently where she feels safest and she replied “When I’m hugging your squishy belly.”
us in 2016, when I posted this photo on Instagram with thoughts on body image and struggling with baby weight (I would now love to be this size again!)
A few nights ago she was lying half on top of me before bed while we both breathed and felt our hearts entrain and our systems settle (I live for these moments) and she said “Your body is like paradise to me Mama”.
I remember going into the bathroom as a kid when my mom was in the bath, and the sense of awe I felt at seeing her naked body. I know now that she thought she was hideous, but I had a deep internal- unverbalized- sense that I was in the presence of the goddess herself.
Feeling her boobs squish against me when we hugged is one of the things I miss most about her.
A few years ago a friend was telling me about her youngest daughter, who is the same way- wants to be close constantly and just lavishes love on her mom’s body. “I’ve never had a lover pour such adoring attention on to my body as she does; I feel utterly perfect just as I am” she said to me.
Motherhood will change your body forever. There is no going back.
The maiden’s body belongs to her, matured but unchanged since childhood. Familiar and known. She holds dominion over it.
The mother’s body has become Earth for her babies, and remains the ground to which they are tethered as they grow and grow. The dominion is also theirs. It is shared space now.
Venus of Laussel, 25,000 years old
What we think about how our body looks- what we fear others perceive when they see us- is nowhere in our children’s perceptions of us. They, more than anyone, see us for who we truly are.
Last year I casually remarked to my teenage daughter (it was relevant to whatever we were talking about) that I’d gained about 40 lbs since my energy loss the year before. “Really!?” she said, “No way.” At first I was surprised that she hadn’t noticed (and wasn’t maybe even a little embarrassed of me?), but then I realized that she’s still my kid, even though she’s almost an adult. She sees my body the way my little one sees it, the way I saw my mom’s body. My weight gain came up again last week when we were talking about summer clothes and she said “You look great Mom- you look like a mom in her 40s”.
Why would I expect to look any different?
Then I thought about my own mother, and how now that she’s gone and I’m in my 40s I hold a bigger perspective on her life. I thought about her body at age 30, when she had me, and her body at 64, when she died. It had changed a lot. I see that now. But while she was here, I hadn’t noticed, and wouldn’t have cared if I had, and wouldn’t have wanted anything to change anyway because then I’d lose the deeply comforting squishy hug experience.
The culture is unwell, and the culture celebrates the forever maiden body. If we know that the culture is unwell, why is it so hard to remove its warped narrative about women and body shape from our psyches? It is up to us mothers to center our children’s experience of us over the unrealistic and unhealthy cultural ideal.
The squish on women’s bodies is love, comfort, fertility, and nourishment.
How we feel to our children is more important than how we look to others.
I would absolutely love to read your thoughts and experiences with your own children and/or mothers here…
I was given the gift of a mother awakened to her own beauty and in awe of her womb. She loved her period every month. She showed me the beauty of my vulva and the name for every part and that no one was ever allowed to touch it if I didn’t want them to.
She reveled in her matronly thickness and never dieted to my knowledge. Quite the feat in the 80s
She has passed this on to me. Our bodies are identical. Thick thighs, wide hips, soft bodies that hang off the bone.
At 44 I’m thicker than I have been in decades. I bought new pants and trust my body is doing exactly what it needs to. My son falls into the pockets and folds of me with love of the safety he feels in my arms.
My husband can’t keep his hands off my curves.
I am so grateful for this legacy my mama has created. What a gift to love ourselves and be loved in all our squishy glory.
The other day we went to the closest spring fed creek to swim. The activity that makes me feel most like myself, and which calms me (and my children-maybe all children?) like no other. I have thankfully moved past the stage of life where I would not let my hair or face get wet lest my mascara run or my heat-styled hair lose it’s shape. I let the water be water and my body be my body within it.
While driving home though, my 12 year old asked me to take my photo. It was definitely golden hour and the sun was hitting my face just right and she told me I “looked like a sun princess”. Obviously such a sweet moment. When I looked at the photo later though, all I see is my soft jawline that I worry about constantly, my overbite, the circles under my eyes that seem to be there perpetually now, the wrinkle on my forehead that I’m convinced only came to be within the last few weeks, and the grey coming in at my temple. I actually felt physically sick looking at it.
Sometimes it feels so hard to reconcile these things-what my children (and also my husband and friends) tell me about what they think of me-the way I feel and look-and what I see myself. Your reframing of what matters and whose opinion holds the most value here is very helpful.
It is our responsibility to come to terms with the bodies we have and their ever-evolving roles and states, I feel very strongly about this. I also grapple with it daily. Thank you for this perspective to add to my little closet of weaponry for utilizing in that grappling😂