Right now, as I’m typing this, an eight-year-old girl I know and love is sobbing on her bed.
Before I tell you why she’s crying, let me tell you about this eight-year-old.
She’s at the top of her Grade 3 class. Loves swimming. And jazz ballet. Can sing every Taylor Swift song off by heart and – even though she says it’s for ‘little kids’ – she’ll often sit down and watch The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on Foxtel in the afternoons. She believes in Santa and Mademoiselle Tooth Fairy and will always ask for a second dessert. And she’s tall and strong with a nose that’s been seasoned with freckles.
And you know why she’s in her bedroom tonight sobbing into a Peppa Pig cushion? Because she’s fat.
Or she thinks she is. Worries that she is. Tonight this eight-year-old became convinced that her perfectly normal round tummy was fat. That her legs – her THIGHS – were fat. And what she wants to be? Oh you already know the answer to that one. She wants to be THIN.
Her mum – one of my dearest friends – rang me tonight in total absolute shock and bewilderment.
This flip out or meltdown or whatever the hell you call it has come out of nowhere. NOWHERE. (My friend is not a weight-obsessed kind of gal and talk in their house – if body shape has ever come up – has always been about being strong and healthy not thin).
So what caused her daughter to become suddenly obsessed with her thighs? Right now, she still has no idea. A conversation at school amongst one girl or several? An image on TV? In a magazine? On the net? An off-hand remark from a teacher? A classmate? All of the above? None of it?
Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure it matters. Because the message is everywhere. Everywhere you look. Everything you see. Hear.
Thin is best. Better. Thin is hot. Desirable. Pretty. Cool. Thin is successful. Lovable. Acceptable. Perfect.
Fat is bad. Evil. Lazy. A slob. No good. Unloveable. Flawed. Ugly. A loser.
Thin is winning at life.
Except you and I both know all of that is a load of BS. So here’s what I want to say to that fierce and funny and spirited eight-year-old in my life.
Thin means nothing. Thin, fat, short, tall… it’s all irrelevant.
It’s a shape. Not a character trait.
Kiddo, having a thigh gap or a bikini bridge doesn’t magically make you a better person. It won’t help you get an A+ in that 1,000-word assignment on Hamlet that you’re going to have to write in Year 11. It’s not going to get you a higher Year 12 score. Or get you into the traineeship or uni course you want to do. It’s not going to help you save up for that trip to London. It won’t make it easier to learn how to make a mean apple pie. Or be the deciding factor on whether that amazing girl or guy you meet at your work mixed netball game asks you out. Nobody is asked on a date simply because of a thigh gap. NOBODY.