Last week when Lydia and I had our monthly lunch date, we went shopping to take advantage of the pre-back-to-school clearance sales. She’s got plenty of shirts that still fit her but she’s grown right out of all of her pants, so we stocked up on jeans, coming home with five new pairs. Yesterday afternoon she modeled them all for us, and as I watched her turning this way and that in front of the full-length mirror, I couldn’t help feeling sad.
She didn’t seem excited at all about the new clothes. Instead of preening the way she used to, this time she eyed herself critically, looking over her shoulder to assess the look of her butt in all the pairs of jeans and tugging self-consciously at the hem of her shirt as each little movement pulled it almost imperceptibly out of place. Throughout the ordeal–for it can’t be described otherwise–her mouth was pursed in a little moue of disapproval.
Though I have seldom, if ever, written about it here, I myself have a whole slew of body-image issues, and it pains me to see my daughter developing them this young. There are plenty of things I would like to change about my appearance, but I must have been at least two or three years older than she is now before I started feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I have tried not to pass my insecurites on to her; I don’t complain about my weight in front of her or let her hear me obsess over the many and varied flaws I see in the mirror. There’s no getting away from the fact, however, that we live in a very looks-conscious society, and no matter how much we try to counter it, little girls are feeling the pressure to look good earlier and earlier. Lydia is all but alone among her peers in not being allowed to wear makeup (since when do mascara and lipstick belong on nine- and ten-year-olds?!). A good number of her friends dye their hair and go to the beach in skimpy bikinis, and at least one girl has been given permission by her mother to pierce her nose when she starts fourth grade. FOURTH grade! It’s madness.
As Lydia stands on the cusp of adolescence, I have an overwhelming sense of apprehension about my ability to help her navigate it without too many bumps and bruises. My opinions and beliefs already weigh so little in comparison to the fancies and whims of the pack of ten-year-old girls she spends her days with. I can tell her until I’m blue in the face that she’s smart, beautiful, strong, capable, and so on, but one classmate’s sidelong glance at the too-wide or too-narrow flare of her jeans, and my assurances scatter like ashes in the wind. Sometimes I feel on the verge of despair.
How do mothers do this? How do we get our girls to the other side, preserving their sense of self and our own sanity?
Hi Bev. I have been reading your site for a long,long time and enjoy it so much.
This is a topic that I feel your pain on. I think you are doing all you can do. Like you said..you can tell her till she is blue in the face but she is not going to believe it until she sees it for herself.
I have a 13 year old step daughter that lives with us full time and she is going thru these same things that Lydia is going thru. It amazes me how much earlier it is happening that it did when we were in school. The pressure for them to be “perfect” SUCKS ASS. I hate to see how things are by the time my daughter (who is almost 3) is that age.
Now, that is all.
🙂
It’s sad. My daughter is 21 and she worried all through middle school and high school about being fat. She wasn’t, she just wasn’t model thin. However, now, and at the very same weight, she feels good about herself, eats very healthfully, and seems heppy with her looks. Just keep telling Lydia she’s strong, smart and beautiful. All you can do is give her the best foundation you can to help her feel good about herself.
Totally get what you’re talking about. We’re seriously considering an all-girls uniform school for grades 7 – 9. Seems if I can take the boys out of the equation, it helps the girls get over their body obsession during those critical years. Or so I’ve heard.
If you figure it all out, please let me know.
This made me really sad, Bev. Because you are so right…it doesn’t matter what a mother says, it’s the other little girls she will believe. It’s something that she just has to go through.
Make-up on 9 and 10 year olds? ACK!!
I hate that feeling of that gaping hole in your chest. What am I going to do? If I would have known that in having children, my heart would be walking around outside my body, I don’t know if I’d ever had any. But YOU I DO know and you can handle this. You turned out wonderful and so will she, she is YOUR daughter afterall. Just keep doin’ what your doin’ (Oh, you may need to borrow some of that hair dye from one of her friends,to cover your grays.)
and that is why I was so relieved to be home schooled for a while, and then made to attend a strict boarding school where NO make-up, no nail polish, no nothing was allowed, and we all had to wear dorky uniforms, complete with ties.
And watching my 6 sisters grow up, I know that soon your girl (as all girls do) will realize that individuality matters more than what their pack of friends says.
But growing up sucks anyway, and Lydia is so lucky to have a mom like YOU!
I would totally love to get her in a uniform school … I think uniforms are a great idea, for so many reasons. Alas, I don’t think such a thing exists in Sweden (the whole idea strikes me as *very* un-Swedish).
And I think you’re right, Deb — I’m not going to get through this without at least a few gray hairs!
Parents can’t say no to their children anymore because they don’t want to contribute to their kids being bullied, etc. It’s so sad to see that kids can’t just be kids anymore; by 10 they are teenagers. And probably all they want to do is to play with dolls or what have you, but instead they have this pressure to grow up 🙁