Definitely thought provoking, and so beautiful. I grew up in a household with a Step-dad who loved to cook for us, and a mother who could burn orange juice. My mother constantly complained about her weight (but was never overweight by more than 2 stone at most), and would complain about mine too, saying we needed to be healthier and then buying the worst food in the shop purely because it was on offer. I remember as a child having 3 or 4 bags of popcorn in the cupboard, but no fruit when I wanted a piece because popcorn was on offer - it didn't matter than only 1 person in a 4 person household actually liked popcorn, it was cheap so she brought it, thinking it was a bargain: like buying a new table in a charity shop because it was only £3 but throwing out the old table £50 to make room for it...!
I don't blame my mother for me being overweight, I lost weight when I was 17, so I knew how to do it and why I was doing it, but both eating and not were conscious adult decisions I made, I do however, resent her slightly for my issues with food - I distinctly remember at probably age 10, eating a plate of chips for breakfast before school, because I'd stropped about eating my cereal, so she just fried chips, at 10 it was brilliant (what kid doesn't want junk all day!?), but looking back at it, I'm appalled and ashamed. Now my mother is at the opposite scale, she's tiny, and lives on salad.
I so hope I don't make my children feel fat and miserable, only beautiful and clever and cherished. And if they happen to become slightly overweight adults, I hope we could conquer it together, in a positive way that brought us closer, not made them resent me.
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