Emme: A Model of Self-Acceptance

"Mom, am I fat?" The words hit you with a thud. And these days, they're coming earlier in a child's life. I haven't heard them yet (thank God) from my 2-year-old daughter, Toby. But I'm doing everything in my power to prevent her from ever asking that question.

For me, it's a special challenge. Early on, I remember my mother, who was always on one diet or another, constantly talking about weight and tugging at her sides in front of the mirror. "I hope you never get these," she would say to me. My stepfather, whom she married when I was 6, was heavy and had struggled with his weight all his life. And he projected that onto me. If I wanted seconds, for example, it was an issue. One time, when I was given a grilled cheese sandwich, I remember saying, "I am so starving; can I have one more?" My mom responded, "I have to ask your dad." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

When I was 12, my stepfather asked me to strip down to my underwear, and he said he was going to show me where my potential problem spots were going to be. He drew on the outside of my thighs with a black pen where my saddlebags are, then my upper hip. When he went for my stomach, I said, "Stop!" and ran out of the room. I can't even describe that kind of violation.

The number-one thing I don't want to do with Toby is show her I care in those ways. I must teach her, through my own example, how to live an active life; how to eat a healthy diet with more whole grains, fresh fruits, and vegetables; and how to love her body. Here's how I do it.