It wasn’t that long ago that plastic surgery was something
reserved for celebrities and the very wealthy. Today, however cosmetic
procedures seem to be the equivalent of a participation trophy for middle class
women.
I know more women than I can count who have had plastic
surgery. Don’t get me wrong—most of these women look great. And my aversion to
plastic surgery is not because it wouldn’t benefit me—I’ve had three kids, I
weigh 35 pounds more than I did in high school and I have more stretch marks
than a shar-pei puppy has wrinkles.
But here’s the thing—I have a daughter. I don’t want her to
grow up thinking that her body is the be-all end-all of her existence. I grew
up with a mother who was always on some fad diet and a grandmother who was
bulimic until she died weighing less than 75 pounds. I’ve experienced firsthand
the effect of that example. I have spent more time, energy and money trying to
get the scale to convey some magic number that I have conjured up in my head than
I have on many other worthy pursuits. When I think about it, it brings me to
tears. And I want more for my daughter.
A few months ago I was chatting with a gentleman as we
watched our kids in swim lessons. He mentioned that his wife was going to have
a “mommy makeover.” It made me wonder, when as a society did we decide that
beauty involves erasing all signs of bringing children into this world? Why are
we not cherishing the bodies that made us mothers and wearing those battle
scars proudly? Why are we so obsessed with looking good in a bikini that we are
literally willing to risk our lives? (You may think I am being dramatic, but
there are plenty of deaths each year that result from cosmetic procedures).
I want to raise a daughter who learns to identify her
talents and discover what she has to offer the world. I want her to learn to
incorporate healthy eating and regular exercise into her daily life without
obsessing over every calorie that passes her lips. I want her to cherish the
body that God has given her, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s hers.
So while I can pretty much guarantee that you’re never going
to see me in a bikini, I’m OK with that. My body has given me gifts far greater
than I could have ever imagined. And for me, that’s enough.
1 comment:
I couldn't agree more!
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