One day, I'd like to share this blog with my daughter. This is the means through which she will get to know her mother, who she was, what she did, what she cared about. I write about the things I want her to know, in case I am not there to tell her myself. I write to tell her what I feel, in case I am not there to show her. I write, to keep the realities of my lived experience alive for her, so that she will learn. I write, maybe too harshly, or plainly but it is how I strive to be a parent to my Muslim daughter. My dream is that one day, she will get to know her mother through this blog.
Dear my baby girl:
I worry. I worried while you were still in my belly. I worried that you might not be getting enough vitamins, or that I had started taking the fish oil supplements too late, or that I had drank one too many cups of chai. I worried when I took Amtrak to DC too many times for work, or took a plan to Florida or the Bahamas that something might happen en route (trains get derailed and planes fall out of the sky). When I went into labor, I worried that I wouldn't be able to push you out, and a c-section would be the way you came into the world. Many of my fears were unfounded, and unnecessary. Throughout my pregnancy, through your brief stay in my uterus, you remained constant, healthy, strong, and showed independence from my worry. Even your delivery was perfect. Thank God.
Even though you are still an infant, I want to explain to you how I came to call you my baby "Fatty." You will find that people in this society, including perhaps your family, understand "fatty" to be derogatory, an epithet to put someone down, and therefore an unacceptable word to describe you. This American culture is obsessed with the physical body, and to be something other than "thin" is considered somehow not beautiful for women in particular, and "fatty" on the surface reflects that idea. This judgement is harsh, and I hope you do not experience this. Your genetic predisposition is to be overweight perhaps. You may love to be active, to run and play, and eat heathy like your Ma, but you may still be what others call "fat."
Regardless of what your physical form is, it's okay, to be larger than life, and to be proud of your body type. I want you to own it, if it is the case. If you are dark, I want you to be proud of your color too. Your body and your color and all your physical features -- these are all gifts from God. You are beautiful any which way you look because your beauty resides in your character. If people call you "fatty" I want you to be proud of that. To remember that I called you this first, lovingly, as your mother as short-hand for your name. Fatty could be spelled "Fati" and it would mean the same to people who are close-minded about the limits of what words mean. We create meaning by choosing what words we use to describe ourselves, but we cannot let people define what it means to be "fat." What I want you to understand is that, ultimately, regardless of whether or not you are overweight, you ultimately decide what you want to be called but I pray that you are okay with being called "fatty" because it is a term of endearment, if you let it be. In a culture of health, if America achieves this, your physique of "over-weight" will not define who you are. Healthiness is more about your state of well-being, not your physical form. Your nani always told me, "Keep your heart clean. It doesn't matter if you put something over your head (like a headscarf), but you have to protect your heart and keep it clean." I would extend that to include, it doesn't matter what your physical form looks like, or what people call you, or even what you choose to call yourself-- keep your heart clean and you will be okay.
I worried at first what calling my daughter "fatty" meant, and I received strict censure from others about using that word, but really it is what I hope you be: a beautiful, larger than life girl who shows character, and loves herself no matter what you're called.
-Love Ma
Dear my baby girl:
I worry. I worried while you were still in my belly. I worried that you might not be getting enough vitamins, or that I had started taking the fish oil supplements too late, or that I had drank one too many cups of chai. I worried when I took Amtrak to DC too many times for work, or took a plan to Florida or the Bahamas that something might happen en route (trains get derailed and planes fall out of the sky). When I went into labor, I worried that I wouldn't be able to push you out, and a c-section would be the way you came into the world. Many of my fears were unfounded, and unnecessary. Throughout my pregnancy, through your brief stay in my uterus, you remained constant, healthy, strong, and showed independence from my worry. Even your delivery was perfect. Thank God.
Even though you are still an infant, I want to explain to you how I came to call you my baby "Fatty." You will find that people in this society, including perhaps your family, understand "fatty" to be derogatory, an epithet to put someone down, and therefore an unacceptable word to describe you. This American culture is obsessed with the physical body, and to be something other than "thin" is considered somehow not beautiful for women in particular, and "fatty" on the surface reflects that idea. This judgement is harsh, and I hope you do not experience this. Your genetic predisposition is to be overweight perhaps. You may love to be active, to run and play, and eat heathy like your Ma, but you may still be what others call "fat."
Regardless of what your physical form is, it's okay, to be larger than life, and to be proud of your body type. I want you to own it, if it is the case. If you are dark, I want you to be proud of your color too. Your body and your color and all your physical features -- these are all gifts from God. You are beautiful any which way you look because your beauty resides in your character. If people call you "fatty" I want you to be proud of that. To remember that I called you this first, lovingly, as your mother as short-hand for your name. Fatty could be spelled "Fati" and it would mean the same to people who are close-minded about the limits of what words mean. We create meaning by choosing what words we use to describe ourselves, but we cannot let people define what it means to be "fat." What I want you to understand is that, ultimately, regardless of whether or not you are overweight, you ultimately decide what you want to be called but I pray that you are okay with being called "fatty" because it is a term of endearment, if you let it be. In a culture of health, if America achieves this, your physique of "over-weight" will not define who you are. Healthiness is more about your state of well-being, not your physical form. Your nani always told me, "Keep your heart clean. It doesn't matter if you put something over your head (like a headscarf), but you have to protect your heart and keep it clean." I would extend that to include, it doesn't matter what your physical form looks like, or what people call you, or even what you choose to call yourself-- keep your heart clean and you will be okay.
I worried at first what calling my daughter "fatty" meant, and I received strict censure from others about using that word, but really it is what I hope you be: a beautiful, larger than life girl who shows character, and loves herself no matter what you're called.
-Love Ma
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