On being a role model

I have a daughter. She is smart, funny, and heartbreakingly beautiful. She turns thirteen this year, but looks and acts like sixteen. A mature, level-headed sixteen. Lately, I've come to realize something I never reflected on before: my daughter cares how I look, dress, and carry myself. My appearance is a reflection on her, in her eyes and in those of her peers.

Parents of teenagers know that they are put on this earth solely to embarrass and mortify their children in public. But if I'm going to embarrass my daughter, let it not be because she's ashamed that I'm overweight, or dressed like a slob.

She hates it when I show up somewhere to pick her up dressed in my work clothes (paint-stained overalls, ditto t-shirt, no makeup, hair in a ponytail under a baseball cap). Sometimes, it can't be helped. We've talked about it, and she understands that I work hard so that she can have and do all the things she has and does. But when I can, and most times I can, I do make an effort to look nice for her. I want her to be proud of me, because I want her to want to be like me.

I have been on this Weight Watchers journey, complete with exercise and other lifestyle changes, for over 7 months now. And I have a feeling this time it's gonna stick. Because I have a young girl watching me, emulating me. She comes with me to the gym. Side by side, we run a 5K on the treadmill, all the while discussing healthy eating habits, fitness goals, and body image.

She watches me control my portions, and keep the fruit bowl full of appealing snack choices. She watches me allow myself treats and indulgences, all balanced by exercise and plenty of sleep. I hope she sees how much better I feel about myself, how much better I feel physically, and how I take pride in what my body can do (like run 10 miles!). I hope she sees that I allow myself the time to work out, the healthy food, and the cute black skinny jeans in a size 4. I'm important to me, is the message I want to send. I'm important to me, and you're important to you. Never let anybody marginalize you, put you down, or tell you what you aren't, can't, or don't deserve.

We've talked about bad habits and self-destructive patterns too. Her father and I were separated for most of 2007. It was a hard year on all of us. My daughter and I both used food as a coping tool. We both gained weight. And she's aware of it, even though she was barely ten years old. I hope that, having come out on the other side, we've both learned something valuable as a result.

Did I mention my daughter is beautiful? And that she looks about sixteen? When she puts on her hiphugger jeans and a low-cut top, it's like a cold hand squeezing my heart. I fear for her, for the power she has, of which she's only just becoming aware. It's a jungle out there, baby girl. How can I prepare you for it?

I don't know for sure, but I think it has to do with confidence. Pride in yourself. Respect for your own body. My daughter is learning all of that. And the thing that humbles me most, is that she's learning it all from me.