It’s such an odd concept, isn’t it?? My mother started controlling my body image when I was in elementary school. 6 years old and already practically dieting. She would give me specific low-calorie, thin ass bread for my sandwiches with a single slice of cheese as my lunch for the day. 10 years old and already posting long workouts that I did on social media so my mother would be proud of me that I was making an effort to make my body more acceptable for her. I developed an eating disorder in elementary school. I was always so scared of my mother seeing me eat that I became so secretive. Binge eating disorder isn’t taken seriously, she knew I had it, admitting she knew, but I guess it was another way of controlling me for her to not help me. I remember hiding snacks under my bed that I was given at school so I could have them without her seeing and judging me. Halloween as a kid was pointless, she always gave my candy away to people at her work because I “didn’t need it”. I was a kid. My mother snapping at me to pull my shirt out, “suggesting” (the things she told me were never a suggestion: you don’t go against what Vicki says, your body is her puppet) that I take my selfies at a higher angle to hide my double chin, telling me to wear shapewear so my clothes would “flatter”… the best they could that is as she looked my body up and down in disgust. I was a child.
I have always been her puppet. Wear this, don’t wear that you can see how fat you are, god don’t sit like that you can see your fat rolls, when does it stop?? The answer? Never.
“You’re gonna do what I tell you. You live under my roof. Follow my rules.”
As I grew into an adult, I was never ever allowed to show anything that showed my stomach. Bikini? Fuck no. Crop top?? No one wants to see that. Diet after diet, working out for hours a day and wanting to die if I accidentally missed a day because how could I make her proud of me for trying to make my body “better”.
I could never eat until I was full and was told I shouldn’t. I had to eat only the portions she gave me and seconds weren’t allowed, you already had all you needed to eat. If you eat more you’ll get fat. If you eat past 8 pm, you’ll get fat. Eating makes you fat.
The strings she has held on me are digging in further and further. I have moved out, I have cut contact, and I have met a partner who has allowed me to feel so liberated to finally wear what I want. Including the crop tops… I have avoided them like the plague for my entire life. The puppet strings are still there, I can’t escape. I am still being told that the way I look and dress is unacceptable and now adding on that if my own personal happiness is more important that I would never ever be successful. I really can’t make this shit up. How can you say that to your child?? How is success more important than me being happy in my own body??
The strings are frayed and torn, I’m trying to escape so hard. I am in a different household entirely but am still afraid of being seen getting food because my body will get looked at and judged if I grab something that may not be “healthy”. I’m afraid of my body being looked at and perceived around the people I know.
But at this point? Fuck it. This is my body. I am not a puppet for my mother to control. I am not a doll to play dress up with unless it is my decision to do so. I have never felt so liberated in my body, even though I am still trying to be used as a puppet by my mother, needing to be dieting and working out every second possible.
The funny thing?? I really was not fat. I look back at pictures from my childhood and am shocked. How did I hate myself so much?
Oh right, I had a mother who was more insecure about my body than I was.
A puppet as a child, a puppet as an adult. I hate my mom.
Unruly Bodies 
First of all I’m sorry you experienced that, it’s never great to feel alienated in your own body. But at the same time, I think sharing this experience is powerful, because it speaks to the ways in which society dictates “the perfect body”. Unfortunately, as in your example, society shapes the way we view our bodies, with only a narrow window being seen as deserving. We as a society need to change this, and begin to restructure the ways we think about the body in order to (hopefully) produce a society in which we (at large) support one another.
Thank you so much for sharing and I am sorry that you had to experience this. Your post resonates with me as, I myself, have gone through a similar experience but with my father. Your mother’s obsession with controlling your body sounds like it robbed you of so much, especially the ability to just be a kid. No child should ever be made to feel shame for enjoying Halloween candy or taking a bite of food. Kids are supposed to be carefree, not worried about if their lunch is low-calorie enough to meet someone else’s standards. For the longest time I felt that I was alone in dealing with this trauma. Unfortunately, it seems so many of us have similar stories of the way parents project their own insecurities onto us. However, it’s comforting to know we have such a large support system from our peers. ♡
Your writing is deeply moving and so powerful. You express the pain and complexity of your experience in such a clear and impactful way, and it’s heartbreaking to read about what you went through. No child should have to endure that kind of scrutiny or control, especially from someone who is supposed to provide unconditional love and support. The way you describe your mother’s actions makes it clear that her influence went far beyond just shaping your physical body—it affected your self-esteem, your relationship with food, and your sense of worth from such a young age. I can’t imagine how isolating it must have been to feel like your body was never acceptable in her eyes, despite the extreme measures you were taking. The fact that you had to hide food, develop an eating disorder, and constantly try to please her shows how deeply she impacted your sense of security and self. But what’s clear in your writing is that you’ve taken those experiences and turned them into something powerful by sharing your story so honestly. It’s brave to open up about this, and I hope that as you continue to reflect and heal, you’re able to reclaim your relationship with your body, food, and self-worth—on your own terms. You deserved to feel safe, accepted, and loved as a child, and you deserve that now too. Sending you strength and love as you continue on this journey of healing.