Is Barbie the Problem or are we Projecting?

 

I have always been a body image obsessed woman. At different times in the past I have been a yoyo dieter, size 16 at my largest and size 4 at my smallest. Although I am healthy now, I’d secretly still love to be a 6 instead of the 10 that I am. I could blame my problem on the media or on the Barbie dolls (and their unrealistic proportions) that I grew up playing with, but I don’t really think that’s where it started. It started with the actual people in my life.

I grew up in a family of mostly overweight people. I listened to the women closest to me berate themselves for being fat, yet remind me to never ever call an overweight person fat. I watched the attention that my thin sister and her drop dead gorgeous bikini body received at the beach or the pool. Triple takes, not double takes. I soaked it all in like a sponge. Skinny equaled good. Fat, I mean “big”, equaled bad. Of course no one ever said this to me, but this is what their actions and reactions told me.

It wasn’t long before I was comparing myself to the real people around me. I remember how when I sat in those small chairs in elementary school, my “big” thighs spread out and filled the chair. I’d look at the girls around me and notice how their thighs didn’t.  I’m sure it was at a very early age I started the practice that I still carry with me today… standing sideways in front of the mirror and sucking my tummy in.

But?

I can’t remember a time when I looked at a doll and believed that she was an actual representation of what I was supposed to look like.

It was the real people in my life that did this for me. The women who were fat were terribly unhappy with their bodies.  From that I learned that I needed to do anything possible to avoid getting fat. So I’ve dieted on and off from junior high on. Even this week I’ve “cut back” with the hopes to lose a few.

Despite the fact that I’m still more concerned with my body image than I’d like to be, one thing about me has changed. I never let my daughters know how much it matters to me because I do not wish the same fate on them. We discuss healthy choices in terms of food and exercise, but the emphasis is always on happiness and not vanity.

It boils down to this: if it matters to you, then it will matter to them. I know that if I beat myself up for eating the wrong foods, they are watching. If I make comments about my chubby tummy and stretch marks each time I change my clothes, they are listening.

I really believe that unless a little girl is taught otherwise, she will walk down the Barbie aisle and see a doll, nothing more…

What do you think?

 

Leslee Horner is a vegetarian wife, mother, writer, artist, dog-lover, and a student of the Universe with a Capital U. She blogs at LesleeHorner.com.