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Even after more than six years as a parent, I am still struck by how swiftly conversations shift from lightweight and silly to more serious and earnest.

Happy and I were headed to the library afterschool one day. We had already discussed the trouble he had gotten into at school for talking too much and how he took some poor other kid down with him (Happy instigated the conversation in the hallway—a big NO NO with his teacher.  Brandon answered him.  And they both got in trouble.  Which meant both of them had demerits in their behavior folder for their parents to see that night.) Our conversation on that was about how it might be one thing to really want to do something that is against the rules (a not go great thing, by the way) but it was a whole ‘nother thing to get someone else caught up in your nonsense (a REALLY NOT so great thing).  ETC.  It was a good conversation; I felt really proud of what I had thought of to say to him and as if it had really reached him.

We had some snacks.  We stopped for bathroom breaks before leaving the house.  And then as we were approaching the door to leave, Happy said, “Brandon has to get a spanking tonight because he got in trouble.”  I didn’t want to blow off Happy’s distress so I sat him down to talk it out.  He told me about his and Brandon’s conversation about spankings.  I gathered my thoughts and then said, “Poor little Brandon,” before launching into my very helpful insight into how parents try to teach their kids lessons and use different tools, blah, blah, blah.  It was good.  I can at least remember that.  I was on a parenting roll.

Then Happy, randomly, asked about his birth mother and how she picked me and BF to be his parents.  So I went into why sometimes biological parents aren’t able to raise their beloved children and a little bit on how adoption works.  I talked about how much his biological parents meant to us, how much he meant to them, and how much he meant to us, how he was our greatest blessing in the world, the very last thing we tell him every single night before we go to bed.

We hugged. We kissed.  We headed to the library.

Damn, I thought.  Homework done.  A healthy snack.  Three pretty good conversations.  I am doing this parenting thing alright today.

And then I picked Happy up from the school next day. As we walked home, I asked Happy who he had lunch with that day.

“POOR LITTLE BRANDON,” He answered matter-of-factly.

And there you have it.  For all that good work that I thought I had done the day before, for all the wisdom I thought I had bestowed, the one thing my kid remembered at that point was the most ridiculous thing I had said, the sort of thing that in the context of my son made me (and him) sound patronizing which is not at all what I had felt—they were just filler words to buy time while I thought of what I really wanted to say.

You try as hard you can. And then the fallibility of being human enters.

The importance of words are the very truth I carry in my core.  If there is anything I know, it is that the words we choose matter.   Even more than that, my core desire in this world is to champion everyone’s humanity.  I fight for people’s right and responsibility to believe in themselves.  Hell, to put a blunt point on it, words and humanity are what I friggin’ do for a living.  And, yet, here I was:  looking at clear evidence that I had gotten three little words so terribly wrong and that if my son parroted me out in the world, even more damage could be done.

Son of a gun.

So we stopped, and I dropped down and looked Happy in the eye.  Is Brandon little, I asked.

“Nope!”  He answered.

“I used the wrong words when I said Poor Little Brandon yesterday.  I wanted you to know that I felt for Brandon, too, and I could have just said that.   We shouldn’t call him or anyone else little.  I am sorry I got that wrong, buddy.”

“That’s okay, mama.”  Happy said and grabbed my hand.  “Let’s get home!”

And I put one foot in front of the other, grateful for the humility and learning I am offered over and over again as I go about this practice of being human.  Because it is all practice, friends.  Every day.  It’s what we have the promise of when we wake up in the morning:  that we can practice our intentions, that we can practice at becoming who we want to be, and that the real magic is that if we are honest and vulnerable and keep trying, we might sometimes get it right but, even more important, that when we get it wrong, we must give ourselves grace and simply begin again with our intention.    

Body Image class starts this Friday.  And here is the very first thing I will say to my students.  Hope it has something to offer you, too, on this day.

Yesterday, you looked in the mirror, and, instead of your inherent greatness, you saw flaws.  You saw things you wanted to change and not everything that made you powerfully, wonderfully, uniquely you.

Last night, in a deep conversation with your friends, you had a powerful thought, the kind of thought that would have changed the whole conversation, maybe would have changed you, but you doubted yourself and so you swallowed it inside of you.  Tucking it away, forcing it out of your mind, so that great big belief would not threaten your status quo in its hunger to get out.

This morning, you walked to class and compared your body to someone else’s.  Your body, a body that has worked so hard for you, that has allowed you to experience every good thing you have known, a body that has kept you going through all the hard stuff, through all the difficulties that have been thrown at you.

And then you walked into our shared space, a space that I hope will become a sanctuary to you, a place that I hope will quiet your inner critic enough so you can see the fabric of which you are made, you can recognize your worth, you can embrace the idea that you are just fine as you physically are right at this moment- not just because that is true, which it is- but because you come to understand that what the world most needs from you is not your trappings but your longings made manifest. 

If you yearn for art to be inspiring or children to feel loved or food to be breathtaking or houses to have souls or communities to have gardens or technology to be accessible or music to have your unique viewpoint or patients to have soulful care or records to be broken or whatever else it might be that speaks to your soul, I want that for you, too, and I want our space and time together, our journey, to be one that supports your recognition of your worth, sparks your awareness that the world needs you and your unique solutions and galvanizes you to embrace what you have to offer.

Today, you will tell me your name, your major, your graduation year, your hometown, the last great book you read, and why you chose to take this class.  You will say you needed Body Image class for your Women’s and Gender Studies minor, for your art major, for your public health concentration, because it fit into your schedule, and, maybe, just maybe, if you can muster the courage to say these words, because you knew when you saw those two words on the course guide that you wanted desperately to have a different relationship with your body and your soul.

And here is what I can promise you.  I will do everything I can to see you, to hear you, to understand you, to help you to understand yourself, to empower you to see your greatness, to inspire you to understand that while you are lovely because you are uniquely you that it is more than just your loveliness we need—that we need your fire, your passion, your purpose.  I will remind you that our bodies are ever changing and so to build a foundation of our worth on what we physically have to offer right this minute is to invite disruption over and over again.  And I will implore you to understand that your soul will always lead you right, will always let you blossom, will always let you shine.

On the day you last walk out of our sanctuary, I hope that you leave this space with your eyes up, ready to recognize and greet those who approach you not just because you know that other souls should be seen but also because you understand that to hide your soul from us is to deny the world of one of its greatest gifts- you.

I hope that you will be able to meet your eyes in the mirror and see purpose and clarity and passion and self-acceptance staring back, that you will treat your body like a guest of honor to your life because it has served you so well so far and you want to continue on that journey, and, ultimately, that you will not hesitate to give the world everything that you uniquely and powerfully have to offer. 

Welcome.  I am so glad you are here.  I am honored to walk alongside you.  I cannot wait to see where we are going.  Let’s get started.

Is your daughter in high school?

Do you feel like your role in championing her self-confidence is negated by the rush of images and messages coming at her from society?

Do you want to form a stronger bond with her?

Are you eager for an incredibly positive experience that allows the two of you to reconnect over who and how you both want to be in the world?

Beautiful You(th) is an interactive mother-daughter workshop that will give you both more of what you need—time together, perspective about the world and its many messages, and the opportunity to distill down to what matters most for you.   

Why does this even matter? 

In Real Pressure, Real Girls: A National Report on Self-Esteem, researchers revealed that…

• 7 in 10 girls believe they are not good enough or do not measure up in some way, including their looks, performance in school and relationships with friends and family members.
• 62% of all girls feel insecure or not sure of themselves
• 57% of all girls have a mother who criticizes her own looks in front of them.
• 57% of all girls say they don’t always tell their parents certain things about them because they don’t want them to think badly of them.
• The top wish among all girls is for their parents to communicate better with them, which includes more frequent and open conversations about what is happening in their own lives.

What will we be doing? 

We’ll have a real conversation about the pressures that women face, what we can do to respond to them, and consider new ways of thinking about what we face and how we present ourselves.  We’ll talk about self-care, claim who and how we want to be in the world, and lay the ground work for many more deep conversations after the workshop is long over.  You’ll share, create, and laugh together, and leave with a road map (and plenty of tangible and emotional tools) to keep practicing profound self-care and radical self-acceptance.

We want to come!  What are the details? 

Join me from 1 to 5 PM EST on October 11^th in The Mallard Room of Homewood Suites Davidson (North Carolina).

Registration for two (mom and daughter) is $200 but use EARLY at check-out for $25 off until September 11^th.   Registration includes supplies for our creative activities (fun, meaningful activities you’ll get to take home with you!), a copy of Beautiful You: A Daily Guide to Radical Self-Acceptance, and a couple surprises.

The good news—this will be an intimate event—just 15 mother/daughter pairs can register!  The bad news—you need to register soon to get your spot!

Join the inspired fun.  Register now.