‘I was eight when I began feeling self-conscious, and it was an adult’s fault’

This is something no child should have to think about. But it’s been 20 years, and I still can’t get it out of my mind. 

Is it ever really OK to discuss a child’s weight in front of them?

Recently, I saw a woman online discuss the time she overheard her grandmother discussing a young family member’s weight.  

The girl she was talking about was the woman’s eight-year-old “little cousin,” whom she “absolutely adores.” 

And while she couldn’t remember the exact words, the OP recalled her grandmother saying, “[Girl's name] is a little big for her age, isn't she?”

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I was eight years old when I first realised my body wasn't like the other girls. Picture: Supplied

Should adults ever discuss a kid’s weight in front of them?

Although the woman “ignored the comment” her grandmother made about the 8yo, it didn’t stop the natural feeling of “rage” bubbling up inside. 

“I am not sure what to do about it,” she said in the Reddit post. “As a pregnant person with a baby on the way, I'm interested to get some other opinions on this.”

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She then posed a question to the group: “What would you do if it was your little girl (or boy)?”

And it got me thinking back to my days studying ballet as a kid.

Because it was a single comment that kickstarted a lifetime of self-consciousness and (frankly) terrible body image.

I started dancing when I was four, and while it certainly had its ups and downs, I loved pretty much every second of my time there. 

That was until one Saturday morning when I was roughly eight years old. I was in the cold, large dance hall with the rest of my classmates, standing at the barre in front of the mirror in my soft pink leotard, tights and skirt, waiting to begin the class. 

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Now, I’ve never been a super skinny kid, but I was never overweight either. Relatively tall for my age, I had long legs and broad shoulders, so I sort of sat somewhere in between. 

Growing up, my parents described me as having a “little jellybean body”, meaning my tummy would sometimes stick over my pants. Others might call this “baby fat.” 

I also spent much of my childhood keeping physically fit, studying dance twice a week for nearly a decade, and spending many Saturdays swimming. Although I didn’t love exercise by any means, you’d always find me outside running, playing and generally staying active. 

But I still had that little tummy, which, for an 8yo, wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

That was until I studied ballet. 

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I should have been focussing on my (lack of) turnout, not my baby fat. Picture: Supplied

If my teacher remarked to another girl about her body, what did she think about me?

Ballet isn’t known for being a kind or gentle sport; it’s ruthless, often times cruel, disciplined and unforgiving. You have to work extremely hard for hours on end, and it’s totally exhausting. 

Those particupating are also expected to look the part. 

Even at a young age, I knew that my body wasn’t typical of the ballerina physique, but that wasn’t something that crossed my mind often. It certainly wasn't something I thought was bad or should be concerned about.

That was until my teacher made a comment that changed me forever. 

There was another girl in my class who was only a year younger than me and had roughly the same physical build. 

My ballet teacher, known for her no-nonsense attitude, stood in front of the whole class and told the 7yo she needed to "watch what she ate so she could fit into her costume" for our performance later that year. 

A seven-year-old. 

I remember feeling as if a knife had gone through my heart. The teacher didn’t even say that comment to me, but she may as well have.

Suddenly, my view of the world shifted a little bit. I had to worry about my body, what it looked like, and the possibility that it was somehow wrong. 

After the teacher made the comment to the other girl, I looked down at my tummy and sucked it in. 

If she made that comment to another girl about her body, what did she think about mine?

This is something no child should have to think about. But it’s been 20 years, and I still can’t get it out of my mind. 

RELATED: ‘My teacher asked me to get on the scales when I was 8 - I never recovered’

I was just a kid. Picture: Supplied

Eight in ten Aussie kids want more to be done about body image in schools

In the decades that have passed since that fateful comment, my relationship with body image has been rocky. 

As a teen and in my early 20s, I tried crash diets, spent hours working out, and sometimes cried myself to sleep thinking about the way I looked. 

And I know for certain that I’m not alone in this. 

“My 10-year-old was eating dessert, and my aunt said, ‘Remember a moment on the lips, forever on the hips,’” someone wrote in the original Reddit post. “I wanted to fly off the handle.”

“My dad commented on my 20-month-old's weight ... "She's a little [chunky]... Does she need a diet?” said another. 

Small comments can quickly turn into something far more sinister, as another person shared. 

“I had an eating disorder in my late teens, largely due to comments my mum made about my body,” a woman wrote. “So I tried to nip those things in the bud before having a child.”

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A recently released report from the Butterfly Foundation found that 57 per cent of young people were “dissatisfied with how their body looks.” 

That’s an 11 per cent increase from their 2022 report. 

Another deeply concerning (yet unsurprising) stat shows that more than half of Australian youth are thinking negatively about their bodies, with 78 per cent of “young people [wishing] they were thinner or leaner.”

According to that same survey, 90 per cent of young people believe high schools should do more to offer better body image support. 

Eight in ten Australian youths believe their primary schools aren’t doing enough. 

And yes, I know, a single comment isn’t the only factor that can contribute to disordered eating or a negative body image.

Every day, we are drowning in relentless diet culture on social media, cross-examining the possible cosmetic work a celebrity has done to their face and bodies, and get told that we’re never going to be good enough, no matter how hard we try. 

And while there’s no doubt that outside influences such as social media, pop culture, and *gestures vaguely* society have impacted the way we see ourselves, sometimes, it’s the smallest remarks that have the biggest damage. 

And they often come from those closest to us. 

So, please, before you make a small, absent-minded comment about a kid’s weight, know that it may kickstart a lifetime of negative thoughts that can take years to unravel.

Originally published as ‘I was eight when I began feeling self-conscious, and it was an adult’s fault’