It finally happened. The day I’ve been dreading ever since they said, “It’s a girl!”. My daughter showed me a new feeling. One that I knew would rear it’s ugly head eventually. She told me she might be embarrassed by me. My heart dropped into my stomach and because of my mental health, all I could think was, “The Fat Mom Strikes Again“.
Being The Fat Mom
I have been overweight my entire life, so being fat is nothing new to me. I’ve always been the fat kid in class, the fat girl at work and the fat mom at the park. I’ve been through all of the ridicule that an overweight person can possibly go through except, being a fat parent that embarrasses their child.
It happened over Spring Break:
Being the at home parent, I had been with my daughter throughout her days off of school and we were both going a little stir-crazy by Thursday morning. I had just gotten a new swimsuit in the mail, so I thought it would be a great idea to take her swimming at the local community center and try on my new suit at the same time.
As I slipped into the sports bra type top, my daughter, who is a little over 7 and a half walked in. She had a puzzled look on her face as she looked at and asked, “Mommy, are you going in the pool too?”. I answered back with a smile, I thought I might and I expected her usual “YAY”. Instead, I was slammed into a brick wall as she said, “But, you might embarrass me if people see you in that, mom…”.
I died a little inside. I might have cringed a little on the outside, but I did not yell and I did not get angry with her. However, I gave into her, my anxiety and my depression by admitting defeat and agreed not to go in the pool.
My Son Never Worried About His Fat Mom, But I Did.
I have always had low self-esteem and self-worth. It is a constant struggle to enjoy any part of myself on a day to day basis and even harder to practice self-care.
At times, I can seem like the most confident and vibrant person you have ever met. A person that seems to love and accept themselves, exactly the way they are, but that is a costume. A facade, a rouse. I am always the fat mom inside. I will always be the fat mom inside and that’s ok.
Predicted, but Unexpected!
I had a feeling that raising a girl was going to be different. I had an inclination that she was going to start noticing physical difference long before her brother did. I predicted it, but I did expect it and it blew me away.
Honestly, I’m not ok, but that’s ok. I am always a work in progress. I will always be the fat mom that sits off to the side and constantly makes sure her shirt is pulled down over rolls and that is ok too. Yes, my anxiety keeps reminding me of the incident and the way I felt, but I have to remember, for her, it was a natural progression. A natural part of inquiry as she grows in a young lady herself.
FYI: She did apologize later. Although, I am not entirely sure she knew what she was apologizing for, but I would never hold a grudge against her for expressing herself.