Does this post make my butt look big?

     It's no secret I love Jennifer Lawrence. The more I see and hear from her, the more I love her. And not just because she's beautiful and talented and plays great empowering characters, although those are all great reasons and true. I also love her because of her stance on body image, especially for young girls. But even the adults among us need to be conscious of this. We need to be aware of what we think about ourselves and why. We need to be aware of what we say to each other and to our daughters, and even our sons, and what effect our words and attitudes are going to have on them. We need to stop being so hard on ourselves. We need to stop being so hard on each other.

     Have you heard of a thigh gap? Or a bikini bridge? How about muffin top? We name these body quirks and strive to achieve them, or avoid them. We mock those who have them, or expect unrealistic achievements of them. Then we teach our children to do the same thing to each other and themselves.

     I have had a few different body types in my lifetime. Growing up, I was the skinny kid. Yep, I had a thigh gap from hell until I was at least 17. I have been the chunky girl, drowning my emotions in Twinkies. I have been the too thin girl, unable to hold down food because of chronic stress. I have been the pregnant girl who lost weight because of terrible terrible morning sickness that caused hospitalization. (Hey, remember when Princess Kate had that? I share a condition with freakin' royalty, people!) Now I happen to be a bit of a dumpy forty something woman. So I know how we treat pretty much everybody. And we treat them all like shit.

     We all know how mean we are to overweight people. Tyra put on the fat suit to prove it. Fat Amy introduced herself that way, just to deny the other bitches the joy of naming her that on their own. We mock them and call them names, and even though the odds are pretty good our kids are going to be one of them someday, we let these kids hear us. We put them on diets and send mixed messages and make sure they know we don't want such a horrible unhealthy life for them while we drive through McDonalds for dinner. We also make sure they know how much we hate our own bodies and therefore ourselves when we gain a few pounds. We wrap all our self worth into our pant size, then tell our kids to judge people by what's inside, not what they look like. And then we wonder why they obsess about a thigh gap!

     But the ones we are meanest to are the ones who have that thigh gap. I honestly was called "skinny bitch" more than Jill at certain times in my life. In a way, being thin is like being pregnant. Complete strangers feel it is acceptable to touch you. Acquaintances ask invasive questions you don't want to answer. Random people give you useless advice and seem to get upset when you disregard it. And in both cases, if you dare to complain about your treatment, it's met with a lecture about how you should be happy and grateful for your condition. People assume you went through great pains to achieve this thin body, so they also feel it's acceptable to comment on it. Little hint: It's not. It's not OK to tell me I'm skinny. Or fat. Or pregnant. I know, and none of these things are dependent on your perception.

     But Moms: We need to make sure our perceptions are not creating expectations for our kids! Especially our daughters. If we bitch and moan about the weight we gained, they understand that the weight makes us an unattractive person. When we starve ourselves before a big event, or to get into a certain outfit, we are teaching them that appearance is more important than health. When we make comments about other women whose bodies are different than ours, we are letting them know that meeting the status quo is important and something to be desired. We are constantly allowing them to see how none of us is good enough! Is this how we want our children to grow up? Knowing that fitting in is more important than being happy and healthy?

     I caught myself the other day. I bent over in a crowded restaurant without looking behind me first. When there wasn't enough room, I said to a complete stranger "I'm so sorry I hit you with my big butt." I was really apologizing for invading his space, for being careless enough to not check behind me. But what my son heard was me apologizing for the size of my ass. I don't want him growing up to judge girls by their ass size! But I still planted this in his head! And now I have no idea how to get it back out of there!

     So I guess what I'm saying here is "Watch it." Hopefully my one slip won't scar little Leroy for life. But growing up in the 70's, watching all the women of my parents' generation obsess over every pound taught me that my ass is big and I should be ashamed of it. But I'm not. Food is yummy and I enjoy it. Gathering with good friends and good food is an activity I hope to always have the opportunity to participate in. My legs get me where I need to go no matter how crooked they are. My ass provides a cushion for sitting. My arms accomplish what I need them to, my hands do some pretty cool stuff. Most important, my brain does things that amaze even me, and my mouth can do some pretty impressive things too. I just need to learn to watch it!