Thursday, September 13, 2012

Don't you bring me down today...

So I am going to write about something, and it is a sort of sensitive subject to people, and it is a subject that I am not really comfortable writing about, but I've been reading a lot of blogs "from mother to daughter" and a thought popped up. I can't let go of it, even though I keep telling myself that I am being ridiculous for even thinking this far down the road, I can't GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD.

Okay anyway. I am a lover of blogs. I read a lot of them. A common theme among mommy bloggers is the message to their daughter: Love Yourself. Love your Body. Don't play with Barbie-yeah tha last one is stupid, but whatever. It's out there.

I have never had body issues. Like for a hot second in 7th grade I wanted to be really tall with big boobs and hips like some of the "cool girls" in school, but by 10th grade I loved my little frame and have never had any issues since. I have stayed the same weight-maybe got a little thinner after high school. No food issues, no bikini issues, no sir not here. I get the occasional "go eat a hamburger" comment from people, but at 35 years old that is such old news in my life it doesn't bother me at all. Okay no body issues. I've always been skinny.

Now- on to my face. From 1st to 7th grade I HATED my face. I thought I was the biggest dog around. I was actually cute when I was little, but there WAS serious woofin going on from about 12-15 years old. But again, , I was over it by 10th grade. I was content with being 'pretty enough". Definitely better looking than a good portion of the population, but also there are lots  of women who were/are prettier than me. Fine. I will  never be a soft, whimsical raven haired beauty with eyes that sparkle like the sea- but I could get a date. And with serious professional make up and airbrushing-I am STUNNING (see airbrushed wedding photos) Now, when I look bad, I look BAD. I am not the type of woman who would look cute in rock climbing gear (um, like I would ever wear that), or when I wake up-but you catch my drift. With a little help of Clinique-I am good to go! Bring on the Men!

Okay-back to my face. I have always (even when I thought I looked my best) HATED my nose. It's big, "roman" "prominent" whatever the F you want to call it. My mom did a good job of telling my I was beautiful, and that it was a "striking" feature on my face, but of course I have been called elephant nose, been told I would be super hot if I had a small nose, ( and my favorite from countless little children) WHY IS YOUR NOSE SO BIG? One time a crack head hooker got mad at me because I did not give her money when she asked me for a dollar, and she was like, "Bitch you need a NOSE JOB" Um...yes, that happened to me. I mostly took it in stride. It did not have an effect on my social life. But still. It was troublesome and something I thought about often.

So what I never experienced on the body end, I have experienced on the face end. You can't make your nose look skinny by wearing black, you can't diet or exercise your nose to make it look better. People had no problems telling me about my nose, which I always found strange. I would never tell some of these people that they had fat thighs, or cow butts. Why was it okay to be mean about my nose?

I had rhinoplasty in 2007. To fix my nose. That I hated. I was tired of "loving what god gave me." One day I was just like, "I fucking hate my nose." And I went to see a plastic surgeon.

Okay-you are probably wondering where I am going with this.

So all of this leads me to this question regarding my daughter, what lessons I am going to need to teach her and what kind of role model I am going to be.

I have no weight issues. If Georgia does, I will not even begin to know what to do.  I mean, my mom was skinny and never talked about weight but I was too, and so were my sisters, so it was a non issue in my house.  Like a NON, nothing, I didn't even know it WAS an issue, non issue. I didn't even know people ever thought about their weight, until one day in high school I went out with some friends and they both threw up on purpose before we went out. I was SHOCKED.

Okay and also, I've had plastic surgery. Now I was 27 when I had it, and paid for it myself, but what kind of role model is that? I mean, I didn't go into having rhinoplasty intending to be a role model, but what if Georgia hates her nose too? I can't tell her to live with it, because I chose not to. I guess I could say, "get one when you are 27" But how is that helpful?

The thought of her being unhappy with herself breaks my heart. Like literally rips to shreds. She is so funny and confident and happy.  I want to violently murder any pain that will ever enter her soul. However, having been a teenager, and knowing other teenagers, the pain is bound to happen. I want to be prepared. But realistically prepared. And it seems like moms these days are starting early. Banning Barbie from my house is not going to really teach any lesson except to hate people who look like Barbie and yes-you do run into those people in life so better to be okay with them at an early age.

So anyway, part of me is like screw this. I have nothing to worry about. There are worse situations to be in. Like, how is Madonna going to explain her SEX book to her children? Or maybe she doesn't. Maybe she says "Do you like your fancy clothes, fashion lines, private schools, and brand new cars? Then shut up!"

So this is what I am thinking about. It never would have popped into my brain, had I not been reading what all the other moms are thinking about. But I did. So now I wonder...

Do I just tell Georgia to mind her own business when it comes to me? What if she has an eating disorder? Will it be my fault? What if she hates her nose? What if kids are mean to her? What if SHE is mean to other kids?