Barbie Will Destroy The World

The other day as Layla was playing with her Barbies, she paused mid-game and considered the Barbie in her hand at arms length for a minute. When I asked her what she was doing, her response simultaneously shocked me and snapped my heart in two:

"I was just thinking that I wish I looked like Barbie".

Immediately, my stomach sunk and I broke into a cold sweat. She wishes she looked like Barbie?! Why would my beautiful girl with her big eyes, rosy skin, and radiating sweetness want to be anything like that generic piece of plastic? My mind whirled, desperately searching for the right thing to say, feeling like this was one of those critical parent moments where what I said could set a definitive course for how my daughter felt about her looks, her body, and herself in general. No pressure, right? Treading carefully, I asked Layla what she meant by her comment. In what ways did she wish she looked like Barbie? Layla responded:

"Because I want all of my clothes to be pink!"

Immediately, my pulse slowed down to normal and the blood pounding violently in my ears subsided. I can handle a five-year old wanting to wear all pink clothes. I briefly considered pointing out how Barbie was too perfect and nothing to aspire towards, but I realized that I would probably be creating a problem when there really wasn't one there to begin with. Instead, I took refuge in Layla's lingering innocence and in the fact that I avoided the metaphorical firing squad.

My relief didn't last long.

Yesterday was one of my days to volunteer in Layla's class. I'm there twice a month to help the kids with their workbook and reading skills. I love to do it, not only because it's given me a whole new respect for the work that teachers do, but also because I get to put faces with the kids that Layla is always talking about at home. We're a little more than half-way through the school year and because the kids all know me pretty well now, they love to tell me stories about their siblings, pets, and things they see on TV. Despite struggling to listen to ten little voices talk to me at once, it's pretty awesome and their stories have always stayed pretty neutral. Until yesterday.

Warning: Though I'm going to try really hard not to, there is a chance that I might sound like I'm up on my parental high horse in a minute. I don't mean to be. God knows I'm nowhere near being a perfect parent, but there are lines that are crossed sometimes and it upsets me. Despite my own faults of struggling to be more patient mixed with my own insecurities and frustrations, I would never, ever put my child down or make them doubt the fact that they are smart, sweet, funny, beautiful and above all, important for even a second of their lives. It sounds like a tall order, but I plan on delivering. My kids deserve it.

Anyway, enough disclaimers. Back to the story.

There's a little girl in Layla's reading group who is sweet and smart, but always slightly off in a way that I've never been able to pinpoint exactly. At first I thought she was just always a little tired or just one of the quieter kids, but she sighs a lot, avoids most eye contact, and always seems a just a little bit sad. Anyway, my volunteer day happened to fall on Layla's snack day (where the kids are responsible for bringing a snack for the whole class), so I brought the snack with me when I came in. Since the kids only get a snack day about every other month, I usually let Layla pick out something fun and this time she chose mini-Valentine's Day cupcakes and milk. I noticed that Ruby (not her real name) kept looking over at the counter a few feet away where the cupcakes were sitting. I noticed her looking so much that I finally asked her if she liked cupcakes. She looked me in the eye and, in a very Matter-Of-Fact, I've-Heard-This-A-Million-Times voice, told me "I love cupcakes, but I'm not allowed to eat sweets at home. My mom says I'm fat enough as it is".

Here's the thing. I believe in a healthy lifestyle. We make sure our kids eat their fruit and vegetables and drink plenty of water, but we also believe that kids are kids and that there is nothing wrong with a treat every once in awhile. If Ruby had told me "I'm not allowed to eat sweets at home because my mom says they're not healthy for my body" I can honestly say that I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it. I don't believe that healthy lifestyles and eating/body issues are mutually exclusive at all. Many people are healthy just for the sake of living a better life. Healthy is a good thing and a great example to set for your kids. "Fat" is a different story.

Honestly, what kind of person calls a five-year-old fat? Moreover, how could any parent knowingly bestow the kind of damage that comes from that kind of a statement onto their child? I can't wrap my head around it.

I posted Ruby's words on Facebook yesterday looking for some kind of insight. An overwhelming number of people confirmed my own suspicions: Ruby's mom has body issues of her own and is projecting them onto her daughter. Awesome.

Believe me, I understand body issues, I really do. I could go on and on about body issues of my own, but what good would that do? Am I going to forbid occasional cupcakes in my house because I have a saggy butt but I'm too lazy to actually do anything about it? No. Am I going to call my daughter fat or make her worry about food because I don't have the body I did when I was sixteen? Absolutely not. And shame on anyone who would.

Life is more than fat or skinny, pretty or ugly, perfect or not so much. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes and what's inside matters just as much (if not more) than what's on the outside. I feel like the more our society progresses in some ways, the more it seems to go backwards in others. Women can vote, work, choose to have children, choose not to have children, choose to get married, choose not to get married, speak their minds, and pretty much do anything we set our minds to. We're just expected to look physically perfect while we do it. Want to hear something depressing? I did a little digging and found that the beauty industry (which is everything from fad diet programs to Botox) generates 160 BILLION dollars annually, and that's just in the United States. That's a lot of skinny women whose smile muscles don't work anymore walking around this country. 160 Billion dollars is more than treating yourself to a manicure every once in awhile because you're a hard working Mama! And since Botox isn't exactly something you do for your health, that's who knows how many moms setting the example for their daughters (inadvertently or not) that the way God made them isn't good enough. Or in Ruby's case, it's equating how you look with how much kindness and love you get from the one person whose job is to love you and be kind to you no matter what. And if that doesn't make your heart immediately snap into two, then I don't know what will.

I ended up telling Ruby that she reminds me of my own daughter: She is sweet, smart, and beautiful and that her mom just wants her to be happy. What sucks is that she's not my daughter and has to go home and continue to be called fat and God only knows what else and be hurt by it all, because the things we say to our kids matter. What really sucks is that I'm sure that she's far from being the only one in this situation, and that many moms out there wish their daughters were perfect little human Barbies.

No one should aspire to be Barbie (all-pink wardrobe and all). Barbie is too perfect, too unblemished, too boring. Flawless is highly overrated.