Moms Owe It To Their Children To Not Get Fat

When I’m spray-tanned at a competitive bodybuilding show, a group of my fellow competitors and I disrobe in a large room and stand in small, three-sided tents together, completely naked, save for a shower cap. A tanning professional with a spray tanning machine paints us with a pungent, freezing cold aerosolized spray intended to turn our skin a dark orange color that would give Donald Trump's foundation a run for its money. I’ll be sprayed over every body part and even bend over to expose more of my “undercarriage,” so the tanning tech can coat every centimeter of my lady bits with color. I will, after all, be standing on a stage in a bikini with about one inch’s worth of fabric covering my most narrow areas, so it’s important to ensure I’m fully colored. 

It was while waiting in line to be pasted with this borderline politically incorrect cocktail of assorted tanning chemicals that I overheard another woman talking about her 6-year-old daughter. Most of the women in my small competitive bodybuilding world don’t have children, so it’s exciting and encouraging to meet other mothers, especially mothers with children the same age as mine. I told her I had a 6-year-old daughter too and asked if her daughter was at the show. Typically, I bring my daughter to every bodybuilding show I compete in. She’s even been on stage with me in several non-competitive settings where I’ve modeled bodybuilding bikinis. The eyes of the judges can be harsh, but it feels good knowing her little eyes are in the audience, wide and proud as she claps and cheers. The other mother in the tanning line was surprised that I asked about her daughter's attendance at the show.

“No,” she said. “I never bring her. Do you think it’s a good thing for our daughters to see?”

Bodybuilding and Motherhood

Bodybuilding is a sport I compete in for purely selfish reasons. It’s the one thing I do that is singularly mine. When I became a mom, the refrain I heard constantly was “You’ll lose yourself in motherhood.” After the birth of my daughter, I could feel the tidal wave of my loss of autonomy imminently approaching, and instinctively I struck out for a mooring post. I needed something to cling to that was completely mine. If I had somewhere to anchor myself, I could ride the waves of motherhood and let the vastness of the role wash over me completely without the loss of self that I saw the other women around me struggling to navigate. I grabbed for something familiar – exercise and fitness. I have always had a need to move my body and test its limits, so my postpartum decision to go all-in on my fitness didn’t come as a huge surprise, but the vigor with which I pursued it probably did. 

Ten months after the birth of my daughter, I stepped on stage in a sparkly bikini and competed in my first bodybuilding competition, coming in first place in each of my categories and falling head over bedazzled heels for the sport in the process. Competing in a bodybuilding competition requires long periods of time spent building muscle, followed by short but intense durations of time performing a high amount of cardio and consuming a low amount of calories. During this time of drastic dieting and exercising for my first show, I was also successfully breastfeeding my daughter. When I spoke publicly about bodybuilding and breastfeeding, people went wild. 

The question I was asked again and again was, “How do you plan to ensure that your daughter has a healthy body image after what she sees you doing?” This is a fair question and one I have considered nearly constantly. I am a mother, first and foremost. My child, and not screwing her up, are my number one priority. But I wondered what exactly was so controversial about my daughter seeing me achieve my highest physical potential. Other moms live sedentary lives and eat their way into new weight brackets year after year, and there is no controversy with their behavior. They call themselves fat and diet again and again with no measurable improvement to their weight or health. I work hard in the gym, push my body in triumphant ways, and eat a healthy, reasonable diet. Am I the one behaving irresponsibly? I don’t think so. 

My lifestyle facilitates activity, play, adventure, exploration, and excitement for my daughter. I won’t apologize for that. 

It’s easy to point to me on contest day, when I’m shredded to the bone and glistening with oil on stage, and say, “That’s taking it too far.” But we never look at the mothers too overweight or unhealthy to take their kids on a walk around the neighborhood and say the same thing. My lifestyle teaches my daughter to push her physical limits and ask more of her body. My lifestyle shows my daughter that it’s not smallness of body that matters, but how well it functions and how hard you can teach it to work. My lifestyle facilitates activity, play, adventure, exploration, and excitement for my daughter. I won’t apologize for that. In fact, I think all mothers should strive to be as healthy and fit as they can be in order to give their children the same opportunities. In order to mother to our highest potential, we are obligated to remain healthy and fit. We should, to put it simply, strive to not get fat.

Generational Health

Growing up, my own mother seemed completely normal to me until I realized that other girls' moms weren't able to do the things that mine could. She took us on vigorous mountain biking trips, she taught us to do cartwheels on the beach, and she wowed my friends and me with backward dives into the pool. While other moms sat and chatted during my dance practices, she lifted weights. I have strong memories of seeing her in the weight room of the local gym, surrounded by men, hauling away on the stair machine or picking up dumbbells off the rack. She wore a bandana around her head in the style of an ‘80s workout video, she had big biceps, and she was really, really cool. Other moms fretted about losing their love handles and 20 extra pounds of lasting pregnancy weight, but mine had abdominal muscles. I knew on an instinctual level that having this mother, this active, healthy mother, was different and was valuable. 

The culture of prioritizing exercise that I experienced through my formative years shaped me thoroughly and shaped the outcome of my future in a direct way, but not because I considered it normal or mundane. Rather, I knew in the moment that living in this exercise-forward, healthy family differed vastly from what others were growing up around, and I felt lucky to be the child of such a physically capable mom. The alternative was the couch-and-chip mothers, the bad-back-and-knees mothers, the can’t-keep-up with-us-at-the-mall mothers. The alternative was having an out-of-shape and unhealthy mom. I had the opposite. I was exposed to thoughtful and thorough consideration of the human form. I was exposed to health. I was exposed to activity and physicality that spilled over into many aspects of my life. We could take hiking vacations as a family, we could garden, we could explore during long walks and find adventures. Our scope of life wasn't limited by any physical factors within my mother’s control. Because she was healthy and fit, possibilities abounded. It was a gift bestowed on me by my mother: the gift of understanding that it’s okay – it’s important – to care about your body, what it looks like, and what it’s capable of.

Loving Your Body Is Taking Care of It

I understand the present culture of body positivity and body acceptance no matter what. I know that the movement's existence comes as a direct backlash to the body image sins of our mothers’ generation. Our moms were bombarded by heroine-chic skinny culture, and it harmed them mentally and sometimes physically. I understand body acceptance’s place in the world. It acts as a protective shelter for all of the women who are dissatisfied with their bodies, disinterested in changing their lifestyles enough to change their bodies, or truly and tragically unable to do something about the state of their bodies. I know that disliking the way you look can range from a mild bummer to a crippling, life-ending obsession. The body positivity movement gives these women a welcoming place to land and a group to be a part of. I don’t begrudge anybody the experience of being truly accepted by a peer group. 

But the body positive and body acceptance movement fails to account for an unacknowledged need in our society: the need for more mothers to be physically able to effectively parent their children. Women cannot be the best, most successful versions of their motherhood selves when they are out of shape or unhealthy. We have a generation of children raised by mothers who have the energy to slog through parenting until bedtime, and nothing more. Being a mother takes stamina, strength, and fortitude. The more out of shape and unhealthy we become, the more rapidly these characteristics dwindle. They must be actively and intentionally built. We must work harder on our bodies to become better mothers. We owe it to our children.

Children of an overweight mother are 50% more likely to become overweight themselves.

Children of an overweight mother are 50% more likely to become overweight themselves, and children with two overweight parents are 80% more likely to be overweight. I would rather take my chances and err on the side of health and fitness. If my fitness can create more opportunities for my daughter, if it can allow her to see more of the world, have more experiences, and encounter more of life outside the home, then it’s an easy decision. We all want to set our children up for success and create the most advantages for them as possible. Staying fit and healthy for our children is a simple way to do that. All mothers say that they’re willing to do anything for their children. Are you willing to lose weight for them? Are you willing to improve your fitness and regain your health for them? Becoming healthier for our kids is a monumental way to improve a significant aspect of their lives. We owe it to our children to be physically able to play, explore, and keep up with them. We owe it to them to facilitate new physical opportunities and experiences. We owe it to our children to not get fat.

Having a fit mother is a gift, and it's an inheritance we can pass down to our children. It’s not about physical appearance – it’s about making moving our bodies a priority. No matter what your current weight or state of fitness, you can start right now. You can begin giving that gift to your children right away. You just have to start moving and ensure that they see it. Long walks, time at the gym, hikes, bike rides – it’s not about turning your body into a muscle factory or trying to build six-pack abs. It’s about day in, day out physical activity, the kind that you can sustainably fit into your life. The good news is that every little bit counts, and something is always better than nothing. Our kids are always absorbing. Model the kind of physical activity that makes you happy and brings you fulfillment, and they will always link the two.

For my competitor friend in the tanning line who sparked our conversation, I felt a little sad. Our children can’t really be excluded from our personal health and fitness. It spills out into every part of our life and influences theirs. I bring my daughter to my bodybuilding shows to show her female strength and confidence. She sees the embodiment of months of hard work and commitment exemplified. She watches me showcase my appreciation for my body in a public way. She sees that women are strong and capable. She watches me get up every morning and, instead of groaning about the workout I have to do, jump out of bed and hit the gym with enthusiasm because it brings me genuine fulfillment and joy. She watches me emphasize the functionality of my body, the weight it can move, the distance it can run, the hills it can climb, and the subsequent confidence that comes from having faith in the capacity of your own physical body.

Closing Thoughts

A few weeks ago, I hiked with my daughter to the top of a mountain in Wyoming. We stood together and took in the spectacular view of the city below. It’s an experience she was only able to have because I was fit enough to get her up there. If we want our children to climb mountains, literally and figuratively, we need to have the capacity to do so ourselves. They only get the view from the top of the mountain because we’re strong enough and healthy enough to walk with them along the way. Having a fit mother is a gift I can give my daughter that will enrich and empower her life in the same way it added value to mine. It’s generational health, the kind that is intentionally and dutifully built. It’s an obligation I am eager to fulfill. I will continue to move my body, to keep it fit and healthy, because I love it, and, even more so, because I love her.

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