The doctor told my mom she’d lost 25% of her body weight in 4 years. The doctor clarified, “you used to weigh 140 and now you weigh 105.”

My mom completely missed the point, that she is waning, and took vigorous umbrage. “Never in my life have I weighed 140!”

This from a woman who wore a belt during pregnancy and chewed laxatives on the regular when I was a child.

In turn I was ashamed of my body as a teenager because I had no thigh gap. I did not engage in disordered eating but so much of my brain space was wasted with negative thoughts about my body. Now I walk past posters for the movie WICKED, and avert my eyes from the extremely underweight actor in pink. I worry about all our little girls, what pleasures they will deny themselves to meet some exacting standard imposed by the world, by men.

I’d love to see my mom tuck-in to a giant plate of lasagna and then crack her spoon on a crème brûlée.