“What’s that owie, Mama?”

“Mama?” my 4 year old vibrantly asked, “what’s that?”  His question came in a rare but appreciated moment without his little brother’s need for attention while we were snuggled together in the glow of after-nap cuddles.  I could sense in his voice that he wasn’t alarmed but genuinely curious about whatever had his attention at that moment.   We had just finished reading books next to each other on the couch when the question came.   I was leafing through a magazine and he was still looking through some books on his own.  I mean what could be so confusing in the midst of Thomas the Train, Dr. Suess, and Pixar characters?  Certainly none of those images prompted questions about body parts I wasn’t ready to discuss or images of violence that were foreign to him.  I was busy trying to find a recipe with five ingredients or less so with less-than-stellar attention skills I asked for clarification; “What are you looking at honey, what’s what?” His answer caused a pit in my stomach so deep it ached.  “Those owies on your face Mama, what is THAT?”

I would had preferred a question about the biological difference between boys and girls at this point because my 4 year old just struck a cord of insecurity that has existed since I was 12 years old.  My son just noticed the breakouts on my chin, called them owies and asked me about it.  Lovely.

Ahh, motherhood, isn’t it just all wonderful?  No it’s not. 

Now, let me back up a minute before you cry shallow vanity.  To me, it wasn’t just a zit or a few hormonal breakouts…I understand that those happen to all of us, but for me, having acne is a huge part of my story.  Second only to my home growing up, the dermatologists office was the place I spent most of my time.  I have been on no less than 25 prescription medications and spent 4 years on 2 rounds of Accutane (a prescription drug that has been close to loosing its support from the FDA numerous times because of the extremely harmful side effects.)  I didn’t just have awkward trials with pimples growing up; I had, and still struggle with today, severe acne.

Ugh, it’s embarrassing even to write about it now.  So when my precious firstborn asked so innocently in that moment about the owies on my face all of my high school insecurities rushed to the surface.  I felt exposed, vulnerable, and found out.  All prompted by the innocence of my 4 year old. Why was he examining the ugly parts?  The parts I hated so much about myself.

And then it hit me (being as I am a counselor who talks a lot about body image day in and day out) that this was more than a teachable moment for him, but a very crucial teachable moment for his Mama.  In that very simple exchange I had to decide that my own body image insecurities could not influence the way that I explained imperfections or flaws to a vulnerable and teachable heart.  I couldn’t let my shortcomings get in the way of how viewed others and even himself.  To him, they weren’t necessarily ugly parts, they were just parts that he hadn’t seen before.  He didn’t know what pimples were or that his Mama has spent years trying to amend these flaws.  He was simply seeing something with fresh eyes.  They weren’t familiar to him so he called them owies- but to him owies go away with a kiss from me and a Superhero Band-Aid.  It was no big deal.  And that needed to be the same for me.  No big deal.

Here’s the thing though, for women, our body image is a big deal and it encompasses so much more than whether or not we are having a “skinny day” when we look at ourselves in the mirror.  A healthy view of ourselves will only serve to establish those same healthy principles in our children-both boys and girls.  Our own body image will set the pace for discussions on beauty and the (un-realistic) standard of perfection society sets before us.  Our own body image will influence our sons and daughters in how they look at others and view themselves.  So even if you think you don’t have “body-image issues” I would challenge you to think about those areas in yourself that make you the most uncomfortable.  How would you handle the situation if your child pointed out your most vulnerable areas?  It isn’t easy but thinking about the scenario before it occurs will allow for a less emotional driven response.

So when my son asked me about my owies, I told them that yes they were in fact owies that I got on my face sometimes.  They usually go away in a week or so and they aren’t fun to have but it’s OK to have some owies.  We all have different owies in our lives that will make us uncomfortable and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

You know what?  That was it.  To his 4-year-old mind that was all the explanation he needed.  In an instance it was over.  No judgment, no condemnation, no rejection.  My pride might have been slightly damaged but I think my overall body image might have gotten a boost, because at 31 I had learned a valuable lesson that I hope to instill in my children as they grow older: No matter how insecure I am, the way I present myself to others will determine how they in turn respond to me.  I get to be in charge of this!  Even when we are desperately hurting inside, we can decide to not let it affect the way others see us.  

My son taught me a valuable lesson that day and as in most parenting lessons, I am thankful for the messy, uncomfortable moments because those usually turn out to be the ones I remember.