As I pen these thoughts at 37 years old, I reflect on the many years that have shaped my self-perception. In earlier times, I would have viewed 37 as a milestone signaling the onset of decline, where fun seemed to fade and the need for supportive garments like Spanx was paramount. However, I have come to realize that this age is simply a number, one that arrived faster than I anticipated.
Shaila, do you know that 37 years equals 444 months? That’s an extensive span! Of those 444 months, I can honestly say that not one was spent feeling satisfied with my reflection.
How can this be? It’s a question I still ponder. I briefly felt confident one summer before fourth grade, thanks to a stylish denim jacket gifted by your grandparents. Other than that fleeting moment, my self-image was marred with dissatisfaction.
In my youth, I longed for straight, shiny hair and wished to resemble my peers, who were predominantly white. By high school, I made peace with my curls—though it was short-lived. Throughout those years, I found myself wishing to be taller, thinner, and simply “prettier.”
As I entered my twenties, I critiqued my body even harsher: my thighs were too large, my waist not small enough, and my arms never seemed right. Fast forward to my thirties, and the criticism evolved as societal standards shifted, with some women even discussing procedures like vaginal rejuvenation post-childbirth. I remember thinking, “Great, just another thing to consider!”
It’s troubling to recognize that since I was 15, I have not experienced a single day where I thought, “I am perfect just as I am.” Each day brought comparisons to other women, measuring myself against an impossible ideal.
Reflecting on this now, as a mother to a 5 ½-year-old daughter, I realize how much precious time I’ve squandered wishing to be someone else. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I wish I could rewind time, shake my younger self, and impart the message: “Embrace who you are. You look good, and even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter!”
However, I must also remind myself of this in the present. I need to confront the gap between unrealistic expectations and self-acceptance—not just for my own well-being, but for your sake as well.
What message am I sending you, my dear daughter? I tell you daily how perfect you are, how beautiful you are inside and out. Yet, I realize I have not believed that about myself for even a single day over the past 37 years.
The messages I send you have never included that I feel comfortable in my own skin; instead, I’ve communicated a constant need for change. But the truth is, I’ve never quite arrived at that destination. It’s a race without a finish line, and it’s time for me to stop running.
For both our sakes, I need to embrace self-acceptance.
Love,
Mom
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Summary:
The journey towards body acceptance is often fraught with societal pressures and unrealistic expectations. Many women, including the author, reflect on years of dissatisfaction with their bodies and the importance of self-acceptance. As a mother, the author recognizes the need to model self-love and confidence for her daughter, emphasizing the need to break the cycle of negative self-perception.
Keyphrase: body acceptance journey
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