Day 519
I was at the playground with Adelyn and Tobin. They were happily swinging away. Their faces full of sunshine and smiles with not a care in the world. Right next to us were two young girls. They were saying the most horrible words I've ever heard young girls say. Things like, "I only weigh 90 pounds...how much do you weigh? Oh, you're five pounds heavier than me." "Hey, do my legs look too pasty?" "Oh, I hate that girl. I have a permanent grudge against her."
There I was. With my two sweet innocent little ones. My little ones who, one day, will be thrust out into this world that fosters an environment that allows, and even yes, encourages, terrible sentences to be spoken into existence. I was faced with the dilemma of speaking up or remaining quiet. I'm never quiet.
Hearing those unspeakable sentences spoken struck me for a couple of reasons. One, it scared me. It scared me because one day...one terrible, horrible, awful day, someone will look at my children, and that someone will cast down their judgment upon them. Their judgement that will be nothing but lies, but my children might come to see as truth. It will happen. It's inevitable. My only hope is that when that day comes, I will have done everything in my power to let my children know that they are loved, that they are beautiful, that they are special, and that they are perfect just as they are. And I hope that those truths will be bigger than any other thing ever spoken about them.
And two, I've felt the sting of judgement. And let me tell you, it's a painful sting. I used to be very thin. A size 0 in high school. And then I fluctuated between a 4 and a 6 before I had kids. Then I had kids. I was pregnant for three years in a row, and I gave birth to giant babies. So, yeah...I have baby weight to lose. And I'm working on it. It's not like I'm growing horns out of my forehead. It's not like I suddenly grew an extra arm. It's baby weight. But people tend to look at you strangely when you gain weight. They look at you like they feel sorry for you. Or like you need help in some way. Or like you are some lesser version of yourself. Some kind of slum version. I've had people say strange things to me. Things like, "look at you..." as they look me up and down as if there are a million spiders crawling across my skin. The little bit of confidence I was feeling that day fell dead on the floor as my ears heard those words.
As we walked home from the playground, the three of us, hand in hand, I thanked God that I still have time. I thanked God that right now, there is time for my children to swing without a care in the world. Right now, there is time for me to tell them over and over everyday, "you are loved...you are beautiful...you are perfect." There is time for me to teach them to not judge a book by it's cover, but by it's content. There is time for me to teach them how to love others. All others. There is time for me to show them that there is more to life than weighing only 90 pounds. There is more to life that worrying about pasty legs. There is time for me to teach them that there is only one thing they really need to know. Love.
Thankful for lessons learned on the playground. Thankful that I still have time. Thankful that above all else, there is this magic something that surpasses all the other somethings on earth. And that is love.
No comments:
Post a Comment