Hold the Mirror Gently: What Our Children Learn From How We See Ourselves

Yesterday

She sits across from me on the living room floor, stretching into the splits, proudly showing off the progress she’s made over the past few weeks. I casually suggest, “You know, yoga helps with flexibility,” hoping to spark an interest in something I love. If I’m being honest, I just want my kids to join me in the things that bring me joy.

But I’m not ready for what comes next. Her words hit me like a brick wall.

She replies, nonchalantly, “Yeah, I want to do yoga anyway, because I don’t want to get fat. I think I’m getting a little fat.”

My stomach sinks. My pulse quickens. I die a little inside.

I freeze. Thoughts fire like lightning through my head, but I can’t form a single sentence. I’m terrified of saying the wrong thing. After all the articles I’ve read about girl empowerment and body positivity, this moment has caught me completely off guard.

Eventually, I manage the only thing I can: “You’re not getting fat.”

It’s not enough. I know it’s not. So I put a pin in it. I need to come back with something better.

Today

I still haven’t crafted the perfect response. I’m working on it.

In the meantime, our family photos arrived. I watched the slideshow over and over, mesmerized. The images were raw and honest—no poses, no pretense. Just us. And for the first time, I saw how much power there is in seeing ourselves this way.

I thought of her words again. And I wondered how differently she might see herself through these images—this gentle mirror showing our family as we are.

The Connection

I’ve been in the photography world long enough to know that not everyone is drawn to documentary-style images. I’ve heard the self-criticism: “I hate how I look,” “I should’ve moved that clutter,” “Why didn’t I fix my hair?” Those comments used to sting. I realized early on that my gift wasn’t in posing or perfection — but in finding beauty in realness. If a toddler is picking their nose in a shot? Even better.

I don’t represent everyone, I know that. But I love my laugh lines. I love the ridiculous faces I make mid-laugh. I love the chaos. Because this is life. And I’m tired of pretending it isn’t.

When my daughter says she’s afraid of getting fat, I hear every subtle message she’s absorbed from a world obsessed with polished versions of ourselves. She’s not alone. Maybe your child has said something similar. And no, hiring a documentary photographer won’t solve this. But we do owe it to our kids to be real in front of them.

We owe it to them to stop hiding our homes, our bodies, our emotions. Because when we conceal these things, we send a message: that who we are isn’t enough.

So What Do We Do?

I know, I’m an idealist. But this matters. When my daughter says those words, she isn’t just echoing a fleeting thought —she’s stepping onto a path many of us have walked too long. A path paved with comparison, shame, and silence.

And I don’t want that for her.

I don’t want that for any of our kids.

I’m not saying you have to book a documentary session. (Though of course, I’d love that.) What I am saying is: let’s start showing up as our real selves.

Let’s normalize laugh lines. Messy kitchens. Honest emotions. Let’s stop telling our kids they’re pretty or handsome as a default, and start telling them they’re clever, curious, creative, kind.

Let’s buy gifts that nurture their minds and hearts — not just their closets.

Let’s stop pretending.

Wisdom from a friend

Jade Beall, a woman I’ve admired for years and who photographed me and my mother years ago, had absolutely incredible advice on the subject and I want to share it here. Her body positivity journey has been incredibly inspiring to watch over the years and so beautifully documented. Her book, The Bodies of Mothers, is a treasure. If you don’t follow her yet, I highly recommend doing so. Here’s her advice on talking to our kids about “being fat.” I’m sharing this for you and for me, as a necessary reminder for all of us.

“My almost 13 year old son was called fat by another boy in wrestling class again today, and this is how I help him.

I DO NOT tell him “you aren’t fat.”

I would also NOT say this if he told me, “mom I’m fat.” Truth is, my son and I are big people. And if I try to convince him otherwise I feel like that’s unhelpful. If he wasn’t actually big and he said this, I also wouldn’t say “you aren’t fat” because it’s not about fatness. It’s about not feeling right in one’s body. I always want to get to the root of what he’s feeling. I also don’t want to enforce the idea that being fat is bad. Being fat is just how bodies are sometimes. It’s normal. It’s fine. We can change our bodies or not, (we can only successfully change our bodies from a regulated place, not a fight/fligt/freeze desperate place and we talk about this too) and that we are and will ALWAYS be good people inside, regardless of how we think our bodies look.

I DO SAY:

1- Thank you for telling me. I feel so lucky you trust me with what someone said to you.

2- I really would love for you to honestly tell me how that made you feel (I add this because we live in a “love your body” household and I also remind him all the time that’s it’s normal to not like how our bodies look and it’s normal to feel embarrassment when others comment on our bodies, especially as an almost 13 year old).

3- How do you feel about other people’s opinions about your body? (I remind him that one of the greatest superpowers we can have is to remember over and over that the ONLY opinion that matters is his own opinion about his precious body.)

4- I remind him that in life, there will ALWAYS be people that have unsolicited opinions about our bodies, forever. And so having the SUPER POWER to LET PEOPLE say whatever they gonna say is TAKING OUR POWER! (We always raise our arms when we get to this part! POWERFUL AND STRONG embodiment.)

5- We rehearse how to deal with this for the next time it happens. I have him tell me, “Jade, you’re fat!” And I reply, “yeah, so?” With calm energy and calmly walk away. I tell him that I wish I had had this super power to LET KIDS say what they wanted about my body at his age WHILE REMAINING in my power and remaining in honor and gratitude of my body, no matter how I or anyone thought my body looked. I tell him that when I was his age, I let other peoples opinions matter more than my own and that it took me 30 years to heal that wound, and so I am SO PROUD that he can let kids opinions roll off his back like water off a duck!

6- I ask him what part of his body he doesn’t like today because THATS A NORMAL feeling, especially for his age. And we practice saying, it’s ok to not like how my body looks all the time while remembering I have a good body, I am a good human, and I love myself regardless of how I think I look.

7- I ask him if there is a part of his body that he LOVES today? Today he said, “MY STRENGTH!”

8- I show him how to release anger/embarrassment about these kind of comments in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone WHILE ALSO, not suppressing how these incidents make us feel.

9- I tell him, “the truth is my love, you are handsome. You might not always be able to see it, and it’s also the least interesting thing about you, but it’s the absolute truth my son: YOU. ARE. HANDSOME. And if you ever need help remembering, I will ALWAYS be here to remind you of the TRUTH.” - Jade Beall

The Takeaway

Your words matter. Your self-talk matters. Your children are listening and watching — closely. Let’s give them something worth imitating.

And if you’re wondering who I am beyond the words, here are some of my favorite images from our own documentary session. No edits, no filters. Just me. Definitely no Photoshop.

Thank you, Katrin Kullenberg, for the gift of seeing my family this way — and for capturing my laugh lines, exactly as they are.