Dear Avery -- a lesson

Dear Avery,

I am always so impressed by your ability to read people. The other night you told me, "Mom, Nici's skinnier than you." You didn't mean anything by it, just an innocent an observation. You could have just as easily said, "Mom, Nici's hair is shorter than yours."

But the word "skinny" is loaded and we all know it. And now, unfortunately, you do too. I can't remember exactly what I said or what my face looked like in defense but I know it was the wrong thing. Because you immediately took notice of my hurt feelings and finished off with, "but mom, that doesn't mean you're fat."

Ugh. Not my proudest mommy moment.

Here's what I wish I had told you instead. Nici is skinnier than me. Yes. She is also 4 inches shorter than me. She wears a size 7 shoe and I wear a 9. Her hair is blonde, mine is dark. Her eyes are blue, mine are brown. We are different. We are best friends. Excellent mothers. And we are both beautiful.

There will always be someone skinnier, someone smarter, someone faster, someone stronger. You can either spend your life comparing yourself to others or you can just go ahead and be YOURSELF.

And let's be clear on this. Skinnier does NOT mean better. As long as you live an active life and make healthy choices, please please PLEASE let the skinny go. I wish I hadn't had to learn that the hard way. I know I'm not fat. I also know that my body is far from perfect. It won't ever be perfect. Nobody's will. Instead of striving to be skinnier, strive to be healthier. Stronger. More determined. Kinder. More Compassionate. More appreciative. Happier. More confident. More comfortable in your own skin. Don't try to be these things better THAN your friends. Be these things better WITH your friends.

At the gym today I took a running class. I hate running. But I like the challenge of pushing myself. And like always, I was last. Dead last. The other women running with me were definitely faster, probably stronger and mostly skinnier. But I was ok with that. I was doing the best for ME. I could have been at home lying on the couch eating chips. But I wasn't. I was becoming faster, stronger, fitter (notice I didn't use the word skinnier) with every out-of-breath step that I took. And I was proud.

We talk a lot in our home about being authentic. Coming in dead last every.single.time and being ok with it -- that's what being authentic means. Comparing yourself with only yourself. Being completely and utterly OK with not being the best, with not being perfect. Embracing your body. Accepting your imperfections. Knowing that you are beautiful just the way you are. Striving only to be more of yourself.

I love you, exactly the way you are.

Love,
Mom