I'm Round, I Bounce, But I Won't Bounce Back: Opening Dialogue with Children About Body Image

Mr. Harrington was a substitute gym teacher. He lived in my best friend's neighborhood and was retired aside from the occasional gig filling in for an absent phys-ed teacher. Rumor has it that in his time at home, he could be seen jogging around the neighborhood carrying a sack full of bricks on his back and eating a stalk of raw broccoli. Why do I remember Mr. Harrington? He subbed maybe twice ever in my entire public school experience. I remember him because he is the one who told me the following statement when I could not do a tripod:

"You have poor upper body strength. You are weak and you will always be weak."

In his defense, Mr. Harrington did not know about hypotonia or low muscle tone. Neither did I and most kids didn't get PT early on for things like that back then. I was not weak, but the connection between my brain and my muscles was slower than my typically developing peers. In addition to poor upper body strength in gym class, I also had chronically low self confidence. I decided early on that I was "bad" at sports.

I never tried out for any team sports, I never chose to engage in these activities and running was definitely something reserved for people being chased, G-d forbid. I grew up significantly under the curve for height and weight most of the time. When schools used to do the pinch test for BMI, I came up as the "fattest" kid in my class, nonetheless, because the ratio of muscle to fat was higher than most of my peers'. I had a "hollow leg" and could "eat whatever I wanted." "Where did I put it all?" "When I stood sideways, I disappeared!" I intuited a lot of ideas about size, weight, strength, health and movement--spoken and unspoken. But here's what I want you to know. Here's what I want you to remember. Early on, it's all reduced to two broad categories: ABCs and 123s. Letters and Numbers.

When I was small, I wanted to be big. I wanted to be the right number to ride that ride. I wanted to be the right number to wear that dress. I wanted to be the same number as my Mom and my Dad because then I could do the things that they did each day that looked so fun and amazing. And as I grew, the letters emerged. Letters I could use to now recognize my name. And then write it myself. And to read the books that were on that shelf. And make the grades that made the grownups proud. And letters on a keyboard that played up and down the space of 81 black and ivory tones. Numbers and letters that scored "perfect" scores and won me competitions and filled the pages of over 100 compositions.

But something else took place as well. I began to notice numbers on the scale. Letters next to the word "vitamin" making some foods "good" and some foods "bad." Letters like XS, S, M, L, XL and numbers on labels that made clothes fit or not fit and thereby made me worthy or unworthy of wearing them. I stopped wanting to be big. I wanted to be small. And it's not something we talk about a lot as women (or men, for that matter) but here's a set of numbers I'd like you to see:

63
81
204

I am 63 inches or 5'3" tall. At this height I have ranged in weight between the following two numbers: 81lbs and 204lbs. In May of 2000 I weighed 81lbs due in part to a lifetime of yet to be diagnosed and adequately treated disordered sleep and also disordered eating. On the day I gave birth to my daughter 8 weeks ago, I weighed 204lbs. I have seen a lot of numbers between those two figures and my figure has seen a lot of shifts as well. Many professionals with good intentions and great educations offered help to me with my disordered eating and body image struggles, but it's a tricky little bird, and while it's no longer a full on war at this point in my life, it's a silent battle in the background for so many women and men alike. And many professionals with good intentions and great educations offered help for the symptoms I presented with that eventually led to the correct diagnosis of my sleep disorder, but the very same symptoms that led to this discovery at the age of 26 are also ones that pigeon hole patients into misdiagnosis and ineffective treatment each and every day.

At some point in my life, I became less interested in numbers and letters and more interested in what my body and brain could do, like obtaining a college degree, biking 18 miles to and from my internship, learning to love hiking, yoga and even running (without being chased). I've never won a trophy or run a marathon but I've enjoyed a variety of ways of being active at all letters and numbers. And do you want to know something else? The three most intense workouts I've ever done were at my heaviest weights. I took home three gorgeous little trophies after those workouts and they keep me active and inspired every day. Mr. Harrington, if you're still out there, I'd like to see you push out one of those bricks you're hauling around with no epidural and then you can tell me I'm weak.

So why do we go from this stage of wanting to be bigger and bigger to all of a sudden wanting to be so small we disappear? Why do I have to be practically invisible for you to see me? And the answer is, very simply (though more complex, I fear), I don't. A few weeks ago, S quite innocently asked me why my belly is still big if C is no longer inside? I answered him, quite innocently, that it took a long time for my belly to grow as she grew inside so that it could give her a cozy place to get ready for the world. And it could take a long time for it to shrink back down and maybe it never would, but that would be OK because my belly carried her and Y and S and that is pretty cool. And today, as we walked out of my gym where I did my first workout since the incredible one I had 8 weeks ago in the L&D unit, S quite innocently said "Mommy, you are going to get so strong, as strong as Tatty!" "I am trying to get strong," I answered, just as innocently, "but I might not be as strong as Tatty. We might be strong in different ways and that's OK. You can have strong arms or strong legs and carry heavy things. You can have strong fingers and write and draw. You can have strong lungs and play a saxophone or a strong nose like Gerald Elephant and sound like a trumpet." S holds strength and shape on the same playing field. Why can't the rest of us do the same?

There is so much pressure and promotion after birth to "bounce back" and while I am round and I bounce, I have no interest in bouncing back. I just want to bounce forward. I don't want to obsess over numbers or letters for any reason other than computing math problems, reading and writing. I have leopard spots and zebra stripes and hair in all kinds of places I never knew I'd find it after these three pregnancies. I also finally wear a grown up shoe size, so that's pretty cool. I have friends who are on serious diet programs, some of whom even coach others toward weight loss. I have friends who have undergone gastric bipass surgery. I have friends who run marathons and even participated in triathlons. I have friends for whom food is only fuel and friends who love to eat for the pleasure of it. I have friends who will tell you that it is both, who can only eat now through a feeding tube. I have friends who teach Yoga and Zumba, friends who eat vegan diets, kosher diets, Whole30 diets or half the buffet diets. Some will say "it's easy: calories in, calories out." Some will say "it's hard and always a struggle."

And I am somewhere in there cheering everyone on in whatever brings you joy and wellness. Your path may not be mine, but I'm glad our paths have crossed. I'm not at the gym because I want some number or letter of the past. I'm there because, um, endorphins are amazing and energy spent is energy gained and I have three busy little "trophies" in my house that I need a lot of bubbly energy for. Health and wellness come in lots of shapes and sizes. So does beauty. So does strength. It's not black and white for me; that's reserved for piano keys. Grey is a fabulous shade, too and lets not forget red and orange, purple, blue...
I have three very important reasons to be well, to feel well and to talk about wellness on a level that keeps them on the same trajectory. Both of my boys also have hypotonia. Both have had PT, both keep active at their own gym and are, thank G-d very healthy and growing! Their gym teachers are encouraging and supportive but that doesn't mean they're never going to meet a Mr. Harrington, and when they do, I want them to be able to intuit over the sound of his words that they are strong and they always will be. Strength is about far more than hauling bricks and eating stalks of broccoli. And in some ways, I'm grateful for that old man. I'm just about stubborn enough to know that his words that at the time paralyzed me with shame are the same ones that pushed me to prove him wrong. Also, I kind of love broccoli, so we do have that in common.

And with three little differently shaped and sized growing bodies in this house, I want our dialogue to be open. We can reserve the numbers and letters on labels for those labels themselves. Food can be fuel and enjoyment. Broccoli tastes good and is good for you but ice cream is not bad. I have a deep-seeded habit not to look in mirrors so I may have my shirt on backwards and totally not realize it. But I hang mirrors all over this house because there's nothing wrong with seeing yourself, it can be a wonderful thing. Just look at my kids spending hours cracking themselves up at their own funny faces or strawberry juice mustaches. Postpartum bodies are not out of shape; they're a new shape and who the heck ever said a line is a shape at all?! I'm pretty sure I was awake for that part of geometry...

To my sweet sons and dear darling daughter; I'm round, I bounce, but I won't bounce back. You will grow; you will be the right number for that ride before you know it! You will have all kinds of letters in your life, but don't stop at A--there's DR and PhD and MR and MRS and MOM and DAD and don't forget to LOL. Prizes are sometimes metals and trophies and other times they are stretch marks and chin hairs. Embrace both. Be big enough to own your space; you've earned it. Be small enough to let someone share it with you; it's more fun that way. Be strong enough to face the Mr. Harringtons of the world and kind enough to love yourself just as much when you do. Try to find something you both have in common; that will shrink him back down to human size because no one's negativity should be larger than life.

Abundance in life isn't found in the number on the scale or the letter on your clothing tag. Your worth is not defined by a numeric figure or even your figure. What defines you is what is in your heart and your dreams and your willingness and ability to persevere toward both. Run if you love to but you don't have to be first. You don't even have to finish. Sometimes it is a sprint; sometimes it's a marathon, sometimes you're going in circles--but even the least skilled bicyclist quickly discovers that you only fall when you stop moving altogether. So keep pedaling, keep stretching, jumping, throwing, catching, seeing and laughing. Bounce back from the hurts of the world but for everything else, bounce forward. Life's a ball and you've gotta roll with it!

Happy and Healthy Playing