My Daughter Cutie Naked

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I’m fat. As in super fat, or morbidly obese. People are weird about this F word. They act as if I’m self-deprecating or unhealthy if I simply use the word fat to describe myself, but when I write about my body I want to make it very clear that I know I’m fat.
I want people to know that I’m under no delusions about my body because they are so weird about using the word “fat.” And despite the fact that so many people dispute my use of the word, plenty of others seem to think that fat people need to be told that we’re fat.
Watch: How to improve your daughter’s body image. Post continues below. 
How to improve your daughter's body image.
Fat is a loaded word, mostly because a faction of folks are intent on using it as an insult. But in my heart, I know that fat is not a bad word. It’s a human one.
And as long as I am talking about why I walk around naked at home like it’s no big deal, what I want you to first understand is that I am very, very fat.
My daughter is going to turn six in April and it still amazes me that she’s never commented on my fat body.
She’s never asked why I am bigger than other women. She’s never asked if she’s going to be fat like me. In fact, the only time I’ve ever heard her say the word “fat” has been uttered without negativity, and in the context of a fat cat on TV.
Whatever my daughter thinks about my body, she has yet to express any sort of sentiment that my fat body is not as good as other bodies.
I often wonder if her nonchalance comes partly from the fact that I walk around our house naked without expressing fear or shame.
When I was growing up, my mother was very puritanical about nudity. All nudity. Despite living in an all-female household with me and my older sister, she freaked out if either of us walked in on her when she was getting dressed, or if she walked in on us while we were naked.
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For my mother, all nudity was inherently bad as soon as a child was old enough to know they were naked. Nudity wasn’t innocent, but indecent, and I’ll never forget the look on her face when I made the mistake of asking her for help with a tampon in fifth grade.
I came home from sex ed and asked my mum to help me insert a tampon, because that’s what the school nurse told us to do. It never occurred to me that my mother would think that was dirty or wrong, but she immediately brushed off the request as disgusting.
After that, I felt disgusting too. I was unable to insert a tampon because I didn’t understand where it should actually go, and I struggled to find any semblance of body positivity.
I want my daughter to get through life with far less shame. As little shame as possible, honestly. And I knew this as soon as I found out that I was going to be a mother.
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When I found out that I was pregnant, a part of me knew that I would breastfeed. I knew that we would have plenty of skin to skin contact.
I also knew that I wanted to do things much differently than my own mom. Practically everybody thinks it’s no big deal to be casually naked at home with a baby in tow.
But as my daughter grew bigger, I realised that walking around my bedroom naked after a shower wasn’t going to be weird with an open door.
On many mornings, when I wake my daughter up for school, I still have to get dressed. And she’ll typically walk into my room for a hug after my shower when I’m sitting on my bed and getting my clothes together.
My daughter does laugh sometimes about being naked. She asks if she can sleep naked some nights and giggles at the freedom. It’s interesting to me to see so much joy come from my child just because my experience with nudity was never so weightless.
It’s important to me that my daughter grows up understanding that all nudity is not sexual. I don’t want her to be ashamed of her body either. I certainly don’t want her to think of her body as somehow dirty, wrong, or bad.
Finally, I want my kid to be comfortable around people of every shape and size.
To me, these are all good reasons to destigmatize nudity at home. The way I respond to each of our naked bodies is going to go a long way in nurturing a healthy sense of body image and positive sexual experiences when she’s an adult.
Of course, it has to be an ongoing conversation. At some point, I know there will be more questions.
For now, we’ve just briefly talked about body hair, menstrual periods, and deodorant, but I suspect that one of these days she’ll have questions about my stretch marks or my body shape and size.
And do you know what? I welcome those questions because I know they’ll be a good opportunity for teaching my daughter about the sort of self-love I wish I had growing up.
Casual nudity at home is more than “no big deal.” It’s a way to teach our kids that their bodies are good and not automatically sexualized. That doesn’t mean we don’t do boundaries.
We still talk about inappropriate touching and consent. And the importance of speaking up if someone says or does something that makes us uncomfortable or feel uncertain.
My mom went out of her way to avoid nudity at all costs because she was so afraid her daughters would have sex before marriage. She also had a habit of seeing sexual abuse everywhere.
What she didn’t understand was that refusing to talk frankly or positively about our bodies actually put her kids in harm’s way from grooming.
Parents need to keep an open line of communication with their kids so they feel comfortable to confide in them.
Knowing what my mom’s stance on nudity did to me, I am committed to giving my daughter a better outlook. So far, it seems to be working. As I finish writing this story, she’s actually having a giggle over a box of dolls that are all currently naked because she wanted to trade their clothes but got bored halfway through the endeavour.
I’m grateful that she can look at the human body as something good and without shame.
This post originally appeared on Medium and has been republished here with full permission.
You can read more from Shannon Ashley on Medium, or follow her on Twitter. 
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Surely there is a bit of middle ground between naked house and puritanical opposition to nudity....

One of my goals as a mother has been to teach my children to be comfortable with their bodies. It was easy when they were little. They saw no need to lock bathroom doors or hide while they were changing. Clothes were nothing more than an obstacle to their play that they would seize any opportunity to slip out of. And I let them.
Whether we were in the house, in the backyard, or even the park, my kids were the ones running about with no shoes, no shirts, and no sermons (from me). My approval didn’t stop other parents from shaking their heads or clucking their tongues, but their contempt was not noticed by my children or internalized by me. As long as my kids were within my eyesight and were wearing some sort of bottom covering, we were doing just fine.
Things changed as they got older. By the time my boys were 8 and 6, they were locking bathroom doors and making sure to always wear shirts, even in the backyard. And I let them. Because, although it saddened me a bit to see how quickly societal norms had squelched their free spirits, ultimately what I wanted them to learn was that they were in charge of their bodies. And if, for whatever reason, they wanted to keep them completely covered, that was their choice, too.
Then my daughter came along. Like her brothers before her, she was happiest when she was barefooted and naked-bellied. Unlike them, however, she didn’t outgrow it… at least not yet. She will be 7 next week and I still have to remind her that she NEEDS to wear a shirt for school. Her favorite thing is to roll around in the grass with nothing more than underwear—which she wears begrudgingly. She says the world feels more real when she can feel it with all of her skin and that being naked(ish) is like being a “wild, free fairy.”
And so I let her. Certainly she needs to wear clothes at school and when we’re out in the world, but at home, in our backyard, she is free to dress in a way that makes her feel comfortable.
The problem is that her comfort has been making my 10-year-old son uncomfortable. Yesterday my daughter came downstairs in her underwear and sat down to eat breakfast. My son’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed up.
“Make her put clothes on, Mom. She’s too old. It’s gross! I can’t eat with her next to me like that.”
I told him that he could sit somewhere else if he wanted to and tried to change the subject to something less contentious. As my daughter and I chatted about an upcoming trip, I noticed that my son had grown quiet. His eyes glistened with the tears he was trying desperately to hold back. I came closer and put my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.
“She’s too old to be naked all the time. It makes me uncomfortable. Please make her get dressed.”
My daughter’s fiery temper immediately kicked in. “I can dress however I want! It’s my body!”
He was sad and she was angry and I was unsure as to how to handle the situation. I let him take his bagel into the living room while I thought it through some more.
The thing is, I want my son to feel good at home. He’s a shy, sensitive kid and he really values having a place where he can be comfortable. Part of me wanted to just insist that my daughter start wearing clothes outside of her bedroom. But then I thought about what it’s like to be a teenage girl, and a young woman… and even a middle-aged one. About how we are hit with a constant barrage of expectations and judgments about how we should look and talk and dress.
Yes, my son was uncomfortable with how his sister was dressed, and yes, his discomfort makes me sad, but he won’t be the last man to feel that way. One day, there will be an older man on a train who believes her shirt is too revealing, a boyfriend who thinks her dress is too frumpy, and a predator who finds her jeans too tempting. People will recoil from the fire in her eyes and the knots in her hair and the passion in her voice. They will move away from her loud laughter and quick tears and sporadic leaps of joy.
And that will be their choice. Just as it was my son’s choice to eat breakfast in the other room. But if I start telling my daughter now that her brother has the right to choose what clothes she wears, what will be the next right that she relinquishes to an uncomfortable male?
I had a long talk with my son after breakfast. We talked about how sometimes I let him wear shorts on days that I’m wearing a down coat because it’s his body and he experiences things differently than I do. I told him that it’s important to respect other people’s clothing choices, even if he doesn’t always understand them. I reminded him about the time he saw me being cat-called by a man using vulgar words and how badly that made me feel.
“It’s not the same, Mom. That guy liked that you were wearing a short skirt. I hate when my sister doesn’t wear enough clothes.”
He’s right. It’s not the same. And yet, on some level, it is. They’re both judgments made on a female’s choice of clothes. Once girls begin to internalize those voices, they often lose their own.
My daughter will continue to dress in her underwear for breakfast if she feels like it. And no one will say a damn thing about it. Because I won’t let them.
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