I hustle my daughter into the dance studio and quickly help her get her tap shoes on. She slips happily into the studio and begins dancing with her friends. The teacher plays cute songs and they run around with scarves. After a time, they switch out to their ballet shoes and practice their routine for the upcoming recital. It’s really damn cute and my daughter is having a blast. She loves it all — the music, the fun she has with her peers, and of course, the glittery outfits.
I see some of the older ballerinas walk past me in their practice gear, water bottles in hand. They file into another studio and begin warming up. They’re probably somewhere between 12 and 15 years old. It’s hard to tell because of their dancers’ physiques. You guessed it — thin, wiry, bird-boned. Someday my daughter will be ready for that class, I think.
Then… my heart sinks. I think of myself at that age, how I didn’t want to wear the spandex shorts that were part of our volleyball. Even though I weighed about a hundred pounds less than I do now, I was bigger-boned and larger-framed than the rest of my team. To put it simply, I spent four years feeling fat compared to the other girls, despite the fact that I was stronger, could jump higher, and fight longer than most of them. All I saw was that I was the biggest, and I had to wear spandex in front of the whole school.
Would my daughter feel the same way about her body as I did?
Letting her take the lead
However, if I could spare her the pain of such an experience, I absolutely would. Why risk it? She’s old enough for youth soccer now — maybe I should ditch the tap shoes and leotards and strap her into some cleats instead. The only risk, I suppose, is taking her away from something she loves because I’m trying to protect her.
I guess at this point all I can do is watch and wait, and be sure that we are having body positivity talks as much as possible. I hope that with an open line of communication my daughter will come to me with any struggles or fears that she has related to her physical appearance. And isn’t that what all moms want?
