I thought I would have sons. Two sweet daughters later, and one dear girl dog, my only son is a German Shepherd with hypothyroidism and a predilection for poo-eating. God love him.
I am sure I would have been a champ with boys. But I am finding surprising grace in being the mother of XX-chromosomed humans.
Sophie sticks her head into the shower to talk to me, to ask me about puberty, why I’m shaving my legs, how babies get into their mommies’ tummies. Hattie Belle watches while I reach for a tampon, yelling delightedly, “EWWWW, THAT’S WEEEEIRD, MOMMY!”
There are no locks on bathroom or bedroom doors. We wander around in various states of undress. I brush my teeth in the buff while a child sits behind me on the toilet, singing to my ass. We discuss all sorts of life issues, sans clothing. Daughters.
I remember taking a shower with my mom once when I was a child—her teaching me how to shower, my being surprised at what a woman’s body looked like. But I don’t remember seeing her naked, not often. By late grade school, we changed behind locked doors. It wasn’t until my own daughters were born that I no longer cared if my mother saw my body. It had ceased to be fully mine with childbirth, lactating. I was able to view it with a humor and a nonchalance that I never could have imagined before having my own daughters. Now Mom and I change in front of each other in bathrooms, in department store changing rooms—laughing and groaning at the changes that come with time, at the Polish genes making themselves known. Cellulite. Veins. Southerly breasts. C’est la vie.
I tell my girls that what they are seeing, when they look at me as I am, is a real woman. I answer questions. I show them where their little fists and heels pressed against the skin of my belly when they were inside me. I explain nipples, birthmarks. We talk about how their bodies will change, how they are likely to have adult bodies that resemble mine in many ways. I shake my booty. They shake theirs. It is absurd. We are absurd. We are lovely.
I never feel more at home in my own skin as I do with them. What a surprise. Didn’t see that coming. I hope so much they will take some of this time with them, tuck it away in some protected place. I hope so much that the remembrance of my skin (and my comfort in it, in their presence) will help them grow to be comfortable in theirs.
I’m curious: What do you remember of your mother’s body, from when you were a child? How has your own body image evolved (or devolved), since having children? Or from the choice not to have children? Fellas, how does body image work with you? Curious, curious.
{ 44 comments… read them below or add one }
my son at a grocery store while waiting to check out told the cashier that his daddy has a really big weiner
I love my body. I love it as a gift for my daughter and at the same time it’s her gift to me, to allow myself to love my body – flaws and everything.
It’s a beautiful thing
I grew up in an all female household, similar to yours now. My parents divorced when I was 5. It was just me, my mom, and my little sister. Lots of freedom and nudity, although my mom and my sister so much more than me. I was the modest one. I look back at that time fondly though.
I too got more relaxed after having children. And find myself nude in front of my two girls often. I love the little talks we have about how funny bodies are.
I actually remember my mother’s body very well. Some from my childhood, but mostly from when she was in hospice care, and I was her main caretaker. I remember everything. The “beauty mark” on one of her toes, the two small red moles on her stomach, and her beautiful hands. And I miss it all dearly.
I hid my body from my mum, from everyone, starting with puberty. At age 11, I hunched my shoulders to hide my breasts, larger than the breasts of most grown women.
Then I had The Mook. My mum spent that first week with us and I learned to be comfortable pulling those breasts out to breastfeed.
I’ve had no issue with being barely-clothed since.
Me and The Mook are partial to nudeness. She prefers to be pantless and I have no issue with this. We are an all-female household and I cannot remember the last time I was able to use the toilet without her supervision.
While I don’t love my body, I accept it. I do not want her to grow up as I did, seeing my mum on one diet after another, never being happy with her body, always listening to my father’s unkind quips about her shape.
These days, my body is all mine. One of these days I hope to share it with a man who will appreciate every stretch mark, every mole, every wrinkle.
I, too, envisioned myself as a mother of boy(s) and ended up with a daughter. And I, too, am completely comfortable being naked around her. But I don’t think it has translated to a comfort with my body, generally. I guess I’m fine naked in a locker room (especially compared to the college-aged girls trying to get dressed under their towels – a laughable sight). But soon I have a beach vacation with friends and I dread the thought of being in a bathing suit around them. So I guess my comfort is situational.
I remember my mom in her bra and nylons (no underwear). She used to come home from work, take off her work clothes, and run around the house doing things in just those underthings. As I got older, I remember being embarrassed. Now I dread the day when my daughter has that reaction.
An interesting topic — I look forward to reading everyone’s responses.
Oof, I do the same things in front of my kid, but my oldest is a boy. He’s only 5, though, and hasn’t shown much curiosity about my body, except he knows I menstruate occasionally and finds it delightfully creepy.
I’m a big girl, and cannot be bothered with covering up and sucking in for the sake of others. So I let it all hang out as a dare to the world: if you find me utterly repulsive, just say something. So far no one has, and it’s been so long I know if someone did, I know that the problem lies within them, not with my arm flab.
How wise to teach your daughters to accept themselves just as they are. They will be so much more healthy when they reach adulthood.
My body is a work of art in progress. My mother is a beautiful woman, but she was always dieting, and since the advancement of digital photography, has to make sure that every picture of her makes her look “skinny” or she not-so-gently urges us to delete.
But she was never shy with her body. I remember her nude breasts, her stomach. She made my sister uncomfortable, I think, but not me. I am like her in many ways.
I’ve almost always loved my body, and since having my son, I love it even more. I want to nourish it and take care of it, but not because I think it’s flawed or fat. I cherish my body, and I often embrace nudity, though as my son grows, I will probably become more conscious of time and place. I want my children to have a healthy relationship to their bodies, and especially for my son to know and respect the beauty of real women. And if I ever have a daughter, I hope that she will learn to feel confident in her own skin, no matter how it folds or bulges.
Nudity was a no-no in my family. I don’t ever remember seeing my father naked and only accidental glimpeses of my mother. When I had a double mastectomy a couple of years ago, my mother helped me bathe after surgery when my partner had to return to work.. That was the first time I was naked around her since I was a baby. It was weird and yet comforting.
I yearn for a family like your’s, Jenn, where love and affection are thrown about freely. It’s an ordeal to HUG in my family and the only proper time to do is upon meeting or departing. Usually departing. Sigh. I’m going to go hug my dog now.
Oh, nudity is the norm in our house. And it was in my mother’s house. My mom was (is) partially nude a lot and I’m now thankful of it. I never had the expectation that my body would be tight and perky after giving birth, I knew it would be stretchmarked and squishy bellied. I liked it. It meant I had had this amazing experience and made a whole new person. I didn’t always love my new body, but I appreciated it.
I have two boys. They have seen me nude way more than I think most would let their kids see them. They knew what tampons were for when they were three, and never thought it was weird, just something women did. They showered with me, they STILL freaking talk to me when I’m in the shower and they’re young teenagers. I’m hoping that easy nudity allows them to not be overly fixated on nudity of women, that they know what a normal body might look like. They seem to have healthy attitudes towards girls, are respectful, and not fixated on seeing boobs (not only did I nurse, but several women in our family have nursed babies throughout their life). It seems to be a good thing so far. When they are not comfortable, no one makes them see anyone nude and they have periods of covering up more. They seem okay
We call our daughter Nudie-Ella, and she and I just did some pre-shower booty-shaking yesterday! It’s fun!
I was in the best shape of my entire life when I got pregnant with her, but as an “Advanced Maternal Age” mom, my body didn’t spring back after she was born, so I definitely have my moments of longing for what I used to look like. HOWEVER, I know my heart still shines out. We can be nekkid together as long as she wants.
I used to bug my mom to let me see her C-section scar. I thought it was so interesting. I also remember being fascinated by how she put her bra straps over her shoulders and then had to hoist her breasts up into the cups, reclaiming them from gravity.
I was the only actively pro-nudity member of my family – still am. But my mom used her body a lot, and I think that helped me to learn love for what my body can do if not always for the way it looks.
What a great post! We’re pretty free and unfettered here, for the most part. Knowing how to be comfortable in your own skin is a great gift to pass along to your daughters!
I have girls, too. When I was pregnant with my first, my body image changed as my boobs got bigger. I was very uncomfortable having large milk-full jugs. By the second, though, I enjoyed it. Now as I nurse the third girl, I know it is the last time and told my husband he should enjoy them while he can!
I also am more comfortable being naked since pregnancy and nursing. My kids have to check on me in the bathroom so there’s no privacy. I didn’t realize how much I talked about diet and exercise with other women until my daughter made a comment about dieting (she was 3). So now I am very careful what I say in front of them. When they ask me why I exercise, I say to be stronger, to make my body feel good, so that I sleep better, etc. I want them to grow up being comfortable with their bodies and in their own skin. And with healthy attitudes about food and exercise.
I can remember years upon years of seeing my mother’s body. Which is probably why it surprised me when my husband said he’d never met another woman who walked around naked as often as I do and was as perfectly comfortable as I am – no matter my shape. We were still dating at the time and I remember asking him if it made him uncomfortable, my brushing my teeth naked, and he said no, he loved that I was so comfortable in my skin.
I hope I can give that gift to my daughters (down the road) (I don’t have daughters yet), the gift of knowing their body is beautiful and of it never occurring to them not to be comfortable in their skin.
what i remember:
polyester and lots of it. in the form of bras, granny panties (even when she was a petite young thing), full slips, half slips, pantyhose…rarely a glimpse of anything resembling bare skin at all — not even feet. so, mostly, i remember long, graceful fingers. and knuckles that held rings in place. and wrists that led to forearms covered in our shared freckles.
kudos to your openness! i envy that so much. and while i do tend towards the less clothed, i doubt it’s having much of an effect on my cats at all, positive or otherwise.
This is a topic I am passionate about (physical openness among family members)—and shyly insecure (my changing, post-childbirth body).
I was raised by naked parents (you know what I mean) and I have four kids (oldest is a boy, age 9) and we still walk around naked, though a bit more cautiously. My daughter, then 4, saw my youngest child be born. Breasts are for nursing. And so on.
Did you read the Brain, Child article about plastic surgery? I found it encouraging and enlightening. Our bodies change—it’s a fact. The question (for me, anyway) is how much is it appropriate to let your body go and accept the changes and how much is it appropriate to fight those changes… I want the residual baby bumps to be sexy, damn it! Know what I mean?
My security code is Y GYM… I hope it is not a hint about going to the gym at the Y!! You gotta love the body you got, it the only one you’ll get…
This is so great…..My mom was rarely nude, often in nylons with no panties or bras though. I was more uncomfy than she. Same as you, changed for me after having babies when i finally had an excuse for my belly and bubbies. Ever since, nudie patootie family. All 4 have differering levels of comfort with it. My oldest is like I was, naked constantly as a little but now quite modest and wanting to get more comfortable with her woman’s body. My son is shy, modest, the only one who kept his diaper on in this house of girls. Yet, he is fine with my constant nudity, used to it and just rolls his eyes. He has been heard to tell his little sisters to get their naked bums off his bed.
The two littles are still naked most of the time until this year when the 8 yr old has gotten shyer, altho recently at the beach she wanted to run in the water so badly she reasoned out loud she needed to not worry what anybody thinks. I say right on lovebug.
We too talk openly about all the changes to expect and what it all means. The littlest one deosn’t really want anything to do with it all, no blood for her or having babies. She has decided to babysit for her sisters children.
My boys came to me last night, admitting to have found their fathers stash of playboys and were concerned. I told them there was nothing wrong with their father looking at pictures of beautiful women, that it wasn’t wrong for a man to fantasize about sex, in fact they can’t even help it. My oldest son (11) said “we’re not men yet though, so…” I told him he was very close to the age when he would think about sex alot, and thats ok, it happens when it happens. My husband walked in and told them that that’s not the way REAL women look, those women are more like art, all painted and stretched out to be somebody’s idea of perfect, and said he just gets them to read the articles. The eight year old fell on the floor laughing.
We were a family that had occasional glimpses of nudity. It never bothered me. Then in the 70′s I saw my grandmonther’s 90 year old infirm cousin using a walker to get to the bathroom in nothing but a pair of panties. It kind of freaked me out a little. I assumed you could only get wrinkles on your face. I didn’t realize they were possible on every square inch of skin.
Now that I’m older, I understand it. The woman had lived through two world wars, the Great Depression, outlived her husband and all of her relatives (except my grandmother). They weren’t wrinkles, they were badges of honor!
Hit submit too soon….meant to say they were badges of honor of a long life, well lived.
When I was a kid (80′s), my parents were very open. They didn’t go out of their way to be naked, but if they just got out of the shower, they’d scoot to their room naked or something. My mom said she never wanted us to feel ashamed of our bodies, so she tried to be free with hers. My mom would change in front of us (all 3 kids are girls) and it was no biggie. I change in front of my kids, but as my oldest (6 1/2) gets older, she leans more to the side of covering up. She used to just wear a pair of undies all summer in the house. My youngest who’s 3 DETESTS clothing. She just wears a diaper all around the house. And when we’re out, sometimes she freaks out and wants to take her clothes off. Fun times!
But, I try to be comfortable in my own skin in front of them. I had my first one pretty young (21) and so my body took a turn for the worse a while ago. Stretch marks are hard to take. Sagging boobs suck. But, when I look at what I got in the end, my 2 beautiful, sweet girls, I am very happy. I lost a lot of weight after my 2nd daughter and was pretty happy, but slowly I gained a LOT back. Stress, depression, it all played in. And now I’m the biggest I’ve ever been (not pregnant). But, I’m still the same person, big or small, and I make sure I’m not too hard on myself in front of the girls. Whenever I try to loose weight, I aways say that I need to “eat healthier” and “want to feel better” which are both true. So, I think we have a good balance. At least I hope we do.
My mom was always very comfortable in her own skin, and I am, too. It’s funny when you ask what I remember about my mother’s body, the first thing that comes to mind is her smell. She washed with Ivory soap and smelled like it. She had a BIG wide mole high up on one thigh that always grossed me out. Her pubes were red, like the hair on her head. She had lots of freckles and droopy boobs she didn’t like (she blamed breastfeeding 4 babies), though she got that fixed with a boob job when I was about 12.
She always wanted to make sure we girls (I’m one of four girls and now am mom to two girls, about your girls’ ages) felt comfortable talking about sex and living with our own sexuality. I remember her showing me her episiotomy scar (NOT something I really wanted to see!). I remember her misunderstanding when I asked her what “quiche” was (I pronounced it “quickie”) and starting to explain that particular phenomenon.
Her strategy worked. I understood about sex, respected my own feelings about it, and didn’t lose my virginity until I was 19 and in love, though I had many opportunities before then. I love my body and am, at 40, having some of the hottest sex of my life. Yes, with my husband.
I do remember my mother’s body – particularly her nipples, which were long and dark from nursing – as she aged, her nipples got smaller and smaller until they were almost not there – leading me to wonder if they’d really been as I’d remembered them.
We walk around nekkid in our house, me and girl child and Daddy.
i don’t remember much except that it wasn’t until neighbors tisk tisked at us being naked as children that i even pondered nudity as being inappropriate. that happened pretty soon after we hopped across the big pond and landed in texas.
i have 2 little boys and have yet to do any form of covering up in our daily routines. still bathe with them. still tromp around nude when i’m getting ready in the morning. i don’t know when that will change. i assume that there will be some sort of signal, or instinctual sign that it’s time to throw on a tee in the morning before the kids jump in bed with us.
i guess my body was so much theirs for so long that it still seems to be shared property. it’s the house of our family. it grew them and fed them. i’m slowly redefining it as “mine” and not everyone’s… but i’ll still probably be naked without worrying about it. i don’t see any shame in it.
they are still pretty young, the eldest being under 4.
i love my body more after childbirth…not immediately after, however..that period is rough. but i appreciate being a woman more now that i am a mother.
i think i looked most beautiful pregnant. i would have proudly walked around town naked when i had my beautiful big belly. i love the pregnant form.
i remember always thinking my mom was the most beautiful woman in the world. that hasn’t changed much.
i remember looking at old photos of her pregnant and wishing that the style hadn’t been to hide big bellies under those awful mumus! this beautiful woman in a big dumpy up the neck potato sack.
Sunski (@ 5): I remember my mom in her bra and nylons (no underwear).
Me too! Very clear image of her being in that all morning while she got ready for work and us ready for school. We weren’t a family that did naked much though – I remember my sister changing under a towel at the beach so thought I should do that too.
Much more comfortable with being naked now that I’m older, and definitely after breast feeding. My son (3) comes into the bathroom when I’m in the shower or on the toilet, which is fine for now. Not sure when I should be concerned about it not being fine – some good thoughts from posters above that it’s maybe never!
my mom always walked around naked. me…i don’t. not since they’ve gotten older. when they were little…yes. my husband though…is always naked.
My mom was always forthcoming about what the parts were if I asked, and she was relaxed about nakedness. The only thing I didn’t like is that she constantly told me that one day I’d look like her. That I’d inherit her D-cup breasts with giant nipples that pointed off to either side. That I’d have lots of cellulite and a small waist and wide hips.
As it turned out, I inherited my dad’s Scandinavian genes. I’m a willowy, pale blonde with small breasts and a pooching tummy (thanks to two pregnancies). I don’t look all that much like she did at my age. Lifestyle pays a big part, but still, I’m me, not a replica of her. And I wished she had allowed that for me at a younger age.
Like my mom, I am relaxed about nakedness and I will answer any questions about the hair and the places where babies come from and where the milk used to be. Unlike my mom, I never tell my 4-year old daughter that she will someday look like me. There’s a good chance she won’t: her dad’s ancestors were Ashkenazi Jews. She’s got his juicy bum and toasty skin. But even if I’d married another German-Dutch-Nordic type, I would always celebrate my daughter’s uniqueness and individual beauty, just as I do now.
This is a very revealing entry. It’s painful to think about this as the only time I ever remember seeing my mom naked was her walking to her hospital bed in a hospital gown. She came from the bathroom and I glanced up and saw her entire back because the gown, of course, was opened in the back. I saw what my body would look like at the age of 76. She settled back into the bed at Hahnemann Hospital and never stood up again. When the nurse asked, on a scale of 1 to 10, she replied that her cascading chest pain was at an “8″. This blew me away as my mom did not complain often and tolerated pain well. She was in end-stage heart disease, soon in acute-critical care, followed by open-heart surgery. She fought on for another ten days but her weathered, damaged heart could not reach a threshold of recovery. Her privacy, her naked body was invaded continuously by defibrillators and scalpels and tubes and lines. I only saw her from the back, once, physically naked but I will remember those days of pain and struggle and how she was ‘laid bare’ forever.
What I choose to remember is her in dresses and nylons, hats and gloves. She never, ever wore slacks. She was the child of poor immigrants yet carried herself with such dignity and grace. Always.
I remember her hands resting on the blankets as we traveled in an ambulance to that hospital and, as we talked ‘small talk’, I knew in my heart that I was losing her. She kept a good stiff upper lip (as was her style) but I think she knew too how serious it was. We didn’t say much but she lay there and I thought she looked so regal, so lovely. Her fingers (which toiled so hard for so long) had been misshapen with arthritis yet they still seemed long and slender. They were the hands of a queen.
My mom was pretty comfortable being naked in front of us. Probably because she had two girls and, of course, my dad didn’t mind seeing her either.
I remember that their bathroom was across the house from their bedroom and every morning mom would streak past in the nude wooping loudly all the way to her bedroom. It always made us laugh. She walked around a lot in her underwear while getting ready in the mornings too. So it was pretty normal for all of us. The three of us always share the largest dressing room we can get when we go shopping together so we’re used to seeing each other undressed. I used to watch her try on clothes and hope I didn’t inherit her “chipmunk cheeks” (her wide hips with cellulite patches) but nowadays I think I’d be lucky if that’s all I end up with! Being 7 months pregnant right now I’ve been watching my body grow in new ways. It’s still a shock when I see myself sideways in a mirror but I’m not upset about the weight gain. I usually feel comfortable about my body when I’m at home with my husband. I guess I draw my comfort line with family though because I get very uncomfortable wearing bathing suits in front of friends or strangers. I will say that my dad was rarely naked around us. His favorite joke was to walk into the room yelling “Close your eyes girls, I’m coming in!” when we were the ones changing. He saw us partially dressed a lot growing up even as teenagers. I’d run downstairs in my underwear and beg him to iron a shirt for me in the morning. But seeing us totally nude as we got older didn’t happen often. I remember falling in the shower once when I was about 16 and he ran upstairs and picked me up and wrapped me in a towel. It could have been an embarrassing moment but I remember being mostly relieved that he was there to help. My sister is a very modest person but I think she also feels comfortable being partially nude around us (our parents and me). I’ll probably model my own behavior after that of my parents and hope my kids feel as comfortable around us.
Growing up, ours was not a “naked” house — we changed behind closed doors, hiding ourselves from one another. My mother is still this way, even now that I am closer to 40 than 30, even when I tease her kindly about how we’ve all got the same parts. She has never felt comfortable in her own skin, I don’t think.
Somehow, even growing up in such a modest environment, I managed to grow up remarkably carefree — and now my house is very much an open-door policy. My kids’ favorite thing to do before bathtime is do the “naked run,” where they run naked through the house screaming “NAKED RUN!” at the top of their voices.
Now that my son is nearing 7, I may need to put the kibosh on that, though, which makes me a little sad at the thought.
My parents changed behind closed doors. I only saw my dad naked once, by accident. I’ve always been modest, though not so much with my own kids. My son learned to pick the lock on my bathroom door when he was 2, so I just leave the door open now. Even the dog follows me in there and sometimes gets her head stuck in my underwear trying to get a closer look at what I’m doing on the pot. My husband and both kids walk around naked all the time with the curtains open and everything. Luckily we live in the country!
I am the oldest of four girls, and growing up, I only remember seeing my mom in her bra and panties a few times. Iit was usually getting ready for an evening out and she was unable to escape our curiousity and excitement of the ritual of getting dressed up. I accidently walked in on my father naked & dressing once, and he was mortified (so was I) for the rest of the day. I was always very modest of my body throughout my life. I got pregnant when I was 40 & 42, and it changed my life. Between the exams and breast feeding…Iike so many others posted here…I’m much more comfortable with my body. My boys are now 4 & 5 yrs old and we are always naked around each other getting ready in the morning, or before bed. They have their “run around” time each night before bedtime…whooping it up and laughing as they run around naked all over the house. They still shower with me or their dad, and bathroom doors are left open for the most part. They don’t look at me like I’m “naked”, to them mama just doesn’t have her clothes on. They will question me once in a while, about breasts, but it’s more “that’s how you fed us when we were babies, right mama?” They inquire about the hair on our bodies (and the lack of it on theirs) and we simply say when you grow a bit more, you’ll get some too. To them, it’s just our family…our home…there is no stigma. My favorite part is when at a quiet part of the day, my oldest will walk over to me while I’m standing and push my shirt up over my belly and lay the side of his face against it, pop his thumbs in this mouth and close his eyes…comforting himself on the soft mushy pillow that was once his home. I then wrap my arm around him and hold him close…soaking up the moment because it only lasts 2-3 minutes. I get sad when I think that soon he’ll outgrow the need and for me it will just be a memory.
Ah, this is a blissful post. I love it. I was sad when my eldest, a boy, stopped looking at me in various stages of undress and stopped letting me look at him. It has been several years. My youngest, also a boy, just turned 7 and is not yet shy about me or him. Yet. But the daughter, the one of my own, allows the sharing of nakedness. I share mine much more than my mother ever shared hers. Interestingly, she also became freer in letting me see her the older I became. Or was it the older she became?
Very interesting topic! First timer here and have already bookmarked you! I have a 6 yr old dd and a 4 yr old ds….both of which have no concept of privacy…hmph. Actually, I grew up in a home where sexuality was not at all talked about. Now I am the opposite with my babes. We all run around here without a care. I love it that my kiddos are care-free and love themselves enough to feel so comfortable…and I don’t want that to change. I recently had a discussion about tampons with my dd…she thought sounded disgusting. I think we went from tampons to “mommy, can I have a snack” in about two seconds flat!
Caroline *mommy of 2 (one with a missing front tooth and one healing from Eczema -thank you God and Vidazorb)
Hi Jenn – just checking in! I hope you are doing well…let us know soon.
With as much love as one stranger can have for another,
Nicole
Just checking in too! I miss your writing, even after 1 1/2 weeks! Hope you are okay.
I came here to check in too. We miss you!
I’m a naked mommy of 3 girls. My 18 month old chases us around yelling BUTT!!!
I remember taking baths with my grandma when I was 7 & 8. We had moved to Humboldt County (WAY northern California) from L.A. and we were seriously frozen 99% of the time. So we were either standing over the floor heaters or soaking in the hottest bath we could run. Good times.
Also checking in. Hope all is/are well.
may I post a link to you on my blog?
please delete this post when you answer
thx!!
love to the polar bear
What a post. How you can capture feelings in words.
Most women have some kind of body image issue during their lifetime – I did not escape this – and this is why i so appreciate the peace you make with your body and how you stand with it honestly in front of your growing girls. They learn from us, how we are in our skin. I try to be/do as you have described. But you described it so beautifully…
Echoing the other comments – beautiful post, glad I found it.