'I’m teaching my daughter to love her body. But I hate my own.'

Content warning: this post discusses diet culture and body image, which may be distressing to some readers.

I check the calories on food packets so often, I barely notice I do it anymore. 

But the other day, when I went to open my little girl’s biscuits for her, I caught myself. 

Instead of looking at the ingredients to make sure they were a wholesome snack to give my toddler energy, my brain automatically went to calories.

Believe me, I was mortified.

She has a really positive relationship with food and I never want her to grow up in a world where she thinks about “the consequences” of every bite of food that goes into her mouth.  

But it’s something that has been programmed into me my entire life. 

While I was never made to feel bad about my body by people around me, every magazine I poured over as a teen had headlines like “Lose 5 Kilos FAST” and “The Flat Tummy Diet”. 

I even distinctly remember one day laying on the floor with my school friend and comparing how much our hip bones stuck out. 

We'd be horrified if we saw teenage girls doing that today. We want them to be proud of their bodies in every form. 

But what hope did I have of loving my shape when everything around me was telling me not to? 

In fact, many women of my generation are now unravelling years of damaging messaging we’ve been sold about having to be smaller and thinner in a world which is now all about body positivity.

When I had my daughter two years ago, my body naturally changed a lot. 

While I was already very tall and mid-sized, pregnancy saw my weight fluctuate further. 

I grappled with feelings of self-consciousness that saw me try to hide away under a uniform of oversized jumpers and black leggings. 

And as the months went on – and I looked down at this perfect little baby who I vowed would never feel this way about herself – I had a stark realisation about just how warped my views on women’s bodies – particularly my own – are.

I constantly pull at my face in the mirror, wishing my wrinkles were softer and my jawline was sharper. 

I turn sideways before I leave the house to see how much my stomach is sticking out each day. 

I’m even guilty of thinking my life would just be easier sometimes if I was thinner. 

I can’t fathom picking an outfit in a store and knowing it would fit. Or eating a block of chocolate and not feeling intense shame afterwards. 

Listen to the Mamamia Out Loud team discussing the downfall of Jenny Craig below. Article continues after podcast. 

I know what you’re thinking. This woman needs therapy immediately. 

And you’re probably right.

But a conversation with pretty much every woman my age sadly uncovers the same feelings.

In fact, in the last few weeks alone, I’ve heard colleagues and friends say things like “I’m so fat right now”, “I look like an elephant” and “I’m off carbs before my holiday”. 

And when I used to work as a magazine editor a few years back, the best-selling covers were always “Half their size – how these celebs did it!”

So I am definitely not alone.

But I desperately don’t want it for our kids. 

I want my daughter to be proud of her height. To take up space. To not shrink to make others feel more comfortable.

I sing her a song called ‘I Love My Body’ by Mother Moon every night about loving yourself from your head to your toes. 

But it feels weird even letting the words escape my mouth when they just aren’t true for me.

So what can I do to course-correct? 

What I have noticed is that the more I focus on my daughter and ensure she has a positive relationship with her body, the more I seem to be following suit myself. 

When I’m making her meals, I think about what’s going to nourish her and what she’s going to enjoy trying – not what has the least calories. 

Watch: How to improve your daughter's body image below. Article continues after video. 

When I see her look in a mirror, I point out all the wonderful things her body can do for her. And remind myself that mine can too.

I mean, it grew a human! The least I can do is show it some respect. 

And I’ve reframed the way I talk about myself. I’m no longer “too big” or “too tall” because I want to lead by example.

It’s still a work in progress, don’t get me wrong. 

I’m not at the body positivity stage yet. 

But I’m determined to be better for my daughter, because she deserves to love herself exactly as she is. 

For help and support with body image, contact the Butterfly Foundation’s National Support line and online service on 1800 ED HOPE (1800 33 4673).

Image: Supplied.