I was getting ready one afternoon when my 7-year-old daughter, Mia, suddenly froze, her expression shifting to one of distress as she gazed at my legs. Naturally, my hypochondriac instincts kicked in, and I exclaimed, “What’s wrong?”
“There are bumps all over your legs,” she replied. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I chuckled and said, “Oh, that’s just cellulite.” I added, “Don’t worry; it runs in the family.”
She didn’t find it funny.
In that moment, I realized it was a crucial opportunity to discuss body image with her. However, I found myself fixated on my reflection under the unforgiving bathroom lights, questioning whether I should be dialing for an ambulance.
“What is it, and why do you have it?” she inquired.
“It’s actually good for you. It’s energy stored up in case you ever need it.”
“Energy?” Mia raised an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s, um, air bubbles under the skin.”
“Air bubbles?” she repeated, clearly confused.
You know what? I had no idea what it really was. “Let’s not worry about it,” I said, but her concern had already transferred to me. Suddenly, I felt a pressing need to address something I had never cared about before.
“Can you make it go away?” she asked.
“I suppose if I went to the gym.”
“Why don’t you go to the gym?”
“Because.”
“We have a gym in our building, and you have workout clothes. You can go while I’m at school.”
“BA-BAM,” as she would say—suddenly, I found myself motivated to confront my cellulite head-on.
I started listing all the excuses that kept me from the gym: my NutriBullet is in storage, exercise aggravates my rosacea, I need to lose ten pounds to fit into my trendy stirrup leggings and backless tops, I don’t have a BPA-free monogrammed water bottle, I didn’t shave my legs, I need supportive sneakers, I lack a motivating iTunes playlist, I must walk the dog, I need to run errands at Target, and oh, the laundry—there’s always laundry.
I considered admitting that I wasn’t convinced the gym would resolve my cellulite issue. But then I recalled Mia saying, “I have the biggest legs in my class, even bigger than the boys.”
This was troubling territory—dangerous and heart-wrenching.
She was starting to compare her legs to others. I had never thought about other people’s legs like that. But now, she was scrutinizing her own. I rarely thought about mine, which is why I was facing this urgent situation.
I assured her that it’s okay. That I’m fine and she is fine, and everyone is perfect just as they are. Nobody is suffering due to cellulite.
So, I laid out my gym clothes for the morning.
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In summary, a simple moment with my daughter turned into a wake-up call about body image, leading me to finally commit to hitting the gym. It’s important to embrace our bodies and teach the next generation to do the same.