I’ve spent too much time crying in dressing rooms. I had this thought while I was on the elliptical machine at the gym and looking at an ad in inStyle magazine for a new line of shirts sized according to bra measurements. “More than half of women don’t fit into standard sizes!” the ad declares (study from The NPD Group, a national research company). There’s a fact I wish I had known when I was younger.

When I was 20 years old, I stood 5’9”, weighed 128 pounds, and had the kind of curves that draw attention. And unfortunately, I hated my body. My best friend Stephanie and I decorated my sophomore college dorm room with images we tore from Vogue magazine. We wanted to look like the supermodels using their thin bodies to sell products and the ads reminded us that we should work on shrinking ourselves.

We monitored our intake constantly, often going for days at a time on a diet that consisted of only kidney beans, lettuce, cigarettes and no-calorie beverages. I learned to drink my coffee black to avoid any calories from whitening with cream or milk. These weren’t difficult adjustments to make. After all, I had spent the previous summer working off weight gain from my freshman year by trying to see how long I could go without eating. I frequently wouldn’t eat for 48 hours at a time and then would break my fast by consuming nothing but watermelon. The positive reaction of friends when I returned to campus was reinforcement that deprivation could help me realize the physical perfection I sought.

But despite all these efforts and having what most may deem a “perfect” body, I was never satisfied, never comfortable in my own skin.

Negative feelings about my body had been cultivated since early childhood. I had developed fast and the kids in my kindergarten class had called me “giant” because I was a full head taller than the next kid. During a traumatic time for my family when I was 6, I was sent to live with my grandparents for the summer. Cookies and mashed potatoes eased my homesickness but added weight to my small frame, and as I entered first grade, my pediatrician put me on a “don’t gain” diet as I grew taller.

After my weight had normalized, I continued to develop faster than my peers and had womanly curves at a young age that only worsened the way I felt about myself. Shopping for school clothes was torture for a girl with long legs and a C-cup by seventh grade. The “Juniors” section of our local department stores carried clothing cut lean and straight, intended for bodies without hips and chests. The pants were tight or too short or just didn’t set right. Button down blouses gapped and knit t-shirts stretched in ways they shouldn’t. I wanted desperately to wear the Levi’s 501 jeans that my friends wore but they never fit right.

I didn’t know that I could just look in the Missus section and I would find clothes better for my body. Instead, I kept trying on larger sizes that still didn’t work and I left every shopping trip feeling misshapen and fat. Always athletic while growing up, one of my high school basketball teammates teased me incessantly for the size of my breasts. And I overheard a petite friend of my parents saying I shouldn’t wear a sweater dress because I had a butt.

Given my background, can you imagine my shame when at 37 years old, I weighed more than double what I was at the age of twenty?

Years of mental self-flagellation had not helped me achieve an unrealistic body ideal. Instead, I had felt terrible about myself and those feelings provided a foundation on which poor eating and exercise habits were built. Years of deprivation were countered by years of pints of Ben and Jerry’s and too many taquitos. As I grew in size, I felt physically and mentally worse and stayed away from the gym. I dieted. I failed. I gave up and gained more. And then I repeated the cycle.

It wasn’t until I felt accepted for who I was at the age of 40 that my own body and body image began to transform. Feeling loved by my then boyfriend, I felt beautiful and sexy for the first time. I stopped thinking about weight and started thinking about health. And through self-acceptance, I stayed motivated to take care of my body and reached a healthy BMI (body mass index) level for the first time since my 20s.

Today, after losing 105 pounds, I am disciplined about both my nutrition and fitness but in a way that seeks to keep me mentally and physically healthy. I don’t expect or want to look like the Photoshop-ed images of models in magazines anymore. Instead, I simply want to be a happy participant in my life and understand how my health impacts that. When I go into a dressing room, I try on a lot of clothes. I know that some styles will work with my shape and others will not.

Since the seeds of poor body image were planted early in my life, I know there are many ways we can encourage or hurt our nieces’ and nephews’ feelings about themselves. Below are a few of the things I learned as I traveled from hating to loving my body.

1. Love your nieces and nephews.

Love them without putting any conditions on how they look. Ensuring that children feel loved for who they are is paramount to ensuring a strong sense of self, regardless of their body size, shape, and characteristics.

2. Love yourself.

By showing your nieces and nephews that you appreciate your own body and appearance, you provide an example of how they should think of themselves.

3. Take care with compliments and cut the critique.

Compliments are a proven way to boost body image. However, all of our words have the potential to create long-lasting benefits that damage. Even compliments that we see as positive, such as “You look so pretty and skinny in that outfit,” can establish negative ideas about what it takes to be pretty. Better to provide compliments that emphasize abilities like “You did a great job of carrying those heavy groceries with your strong arms” or traits, such as “sparkling eyes” and “a smile that lights up a room.” Additionally, I can’t think of a single criticism of how I looked that ever had a positive impact on me so it might be best to follow the adage that if you can’t think of something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

4. It isn’t one size fits all.

Sometimes clothes will fit. Sometimes they won’t. And oftentimes, this has absolutely nothing to do with body size and everything to do with cut and style. If you shop with nieces and nephews, help them to understand that they have to search to find things that fit correctly because clothes aren’t made to fit every body.

5. Beware of “weight” talk and keep it away from the kids.

Too much discussion about diets and gain or loss around young ones can send the wrong message. My weight and weight loss journey was a big part of my life for several years, but I knew I had erred when my skinny niece, only 10 years old at the time, told me she wanted to get a scale for her bathroom. I explained why that wasn’t necessary but regret that my discussion about diets and weight sent the wrong message to her.

6. Encourage healthy attitudes toward food and watch out for deprivation.

A growing child should not live on kidney beans or watermelon alone. Deprivation leads to future overeating as proven by numerous studies so the deprived person suffers twice—when they don’t get what they want and when they have the guilt of over-indulgence. Help nieces and nephews understand how nutrition impacts their well-being and encourage all foods in moderation.

Have you struggled with your body image? How has your experience shaped the way you interact with your nieces and nephews?

Sheree Winslow is a leader and a writer and founder of WomenAtTheTables.com. As someone who has managed company operations and more than 1200 employees, she is passionate about helping women advance as leaders. She started Women At The Tables as a way to inspire and mentor women and girls who want to lead. You can connect with Sheree via email sheree@womenatthetables.com, through the Women At The Tables Facebook page or at WomenAtTheTables.com.

Photo: stockimages
Published: October 8, 2013