Behind the Smiling, Family Photos

If my family’s holiday cards found their way to your mailbox, you likely smiled, made a passing comment about how much our kids have grown, or lamented the fact that we haven’t spoke in far too long.

What you didn’t glean from the card was the look on my 11 year-old daughter, Viviana’s, face when she first saw the proofs. You didn’t hear Vivi sigh and say, “I look fat.”

Then, as the ball dropped in Times Square a week later, you also wouldn’t have listened to Vivi tell me that her New Year’s resolution was to “lose weight.”

I was there each time – and all the times before. My heart breaks at my daughter’s disgust at her body image – feelings that are popping up more and more recently.

Vivi’s in fifth grade and, I gather, at the age where “a little bigger” becomes “fat.” It’s a cruel fate for kids like my daughter – or any tween who is keenly aware of what the world sees as beautiful (and not).

After hearing Vivi’s reaction to the Christmas cards, I immediately went into damage-control-dad-mode, saying, “Vivi, you look great in all of these! You are so beautiful.”

Her half-crocked smile in my direction served as a virtual pat on the head, like saying, “Dad, I know you think so, but I don’t.”

How to fix this?

Or, should I even try at the risk of giving Vivi a complex about her appearance?

The truth is, I’ve seen this wave coming for awhile. Vivi’s siblings are trim, she is less so. Like me, Viviana will eat, if hungry or not, whenever food is available. Also, like me, Vivi would rather sink into a comfy couch than take a vigorous stroll around the neighborhood.

Through the years I’ve tried hard to tell her that beauty has nothing to do with what you look like. Just as with her younger sister, I constantly tell Vivi that the only things that make you beautiful are your heart and brain. That used to make her giggle, now she rolls her eyes in dismissive obedience.

Complimenting Vivi might soothe the immediate pain. It doesn’t, however, seem to cure the longer term self image issue that lives inside of her.

In some ways, I’m part of the problem – I have similar body issues too. Too often I make fun of how I look in front of the kids. Vivi’s been around when I grab my love handles in disgust. Or, when I proclaim that no pictures of me at the beach ever make it to social media – EVER.

Yes, I’m messed up, too.

Maybe, then, Viviana and I can help each other – not only by honest conversations about elements of ourselves we’d change if we could, but, holding each other accountable for things we could change but haven’t.

While it sounds easy, these conversations are tough. They require vulnerability, devotion, time and energy.

These conversations are risky. They may unearth things that make me uncomfortable. I’ll have to unpack some heavy baggage to help rebuild my little girl.

Next year our smiles will be as big. I hope, though, we are all beaming authentically – especially Vivi.