I watched my daughter sing to music on the drive to her school this morning. She smiled as she sang. She is often told she looks just like me. In that moment it hit me "she's not like me".

I remember weighing myself any chance I could as a teen. I remember doing it at age 5. I remember exactly what I weighed. I can remember seeing 99 on the scale as a child thinking...please don't let that hit 100. I've spent a lifetime fighting the number on that scale and hate the scale yet found myself walking to it to get on it daily. That habit turned in to a need to see those numbers multiple times a day, always more frequent if the number was somehow higher, in hopes it would go down. This quickly turned into despiration and eventually an eating disorder I would fight for 25 years.

I looked at my daughter and try to think "does she exhibit any of my behavior". I would be delusional to think at 13 she doesn't have self esteem and body image issues. Watching her sing and thinking of our day to day interactions reassure me for now she's safe. I remember telling myself that in the future when I became a parent I would do my best to reassure my children to be with who they are and have a healthy body image issue. 

My daughter was old enough to understand when I began daily workouts that mom was trying to lose weight. This scared me. I didn't want her to develop a body image issue like I had because she was seeing a mom who went from never working out and watching food intake to a mom that was disciplined. She eventually became my cheerleader and in the process of becoming healthy, she herself did as well but it was never the intention for her to lose weight. My family lived a very sedentary life. My daughter now practices jiu jitsu several days a week. She runs and bikes with me and it's not uncommon my family runs together. It's helped our family bond.

Today I thought about her, and how far  we have come and it saddened me some to know I've gained some of the weight back. I am also proud, because she knows a mom who keeps fighting. The mom who can lift, swim, bike and run 6 miles on a average day. She sees me at my weakest, sometimes when I am vulnerable during a workout and I mutter "I'm so tired". She also gets to cheer me on. A role that normally comes from a parent cheering on their child. I get to hear her say "you can do this mom". Her view of becoming healthy and staying that way is a honest view. That it takes real work. Dedication. Not just when it's convenient but all the time. Sometimes we fall but what's important is that we don't stop fighting. My hope is she's stronger then I am. 

 

Day 4: 198