when did you first become aware of your body?

I think this is an important discussion to have, specifically for women, to put into perspective the omnipresent imagery of the frail and sexualized female and its impact on young girls. I want to look back on my own life and think that since I was always really thin and ate as I pleased, I never really developed obsessive tendencies around exercise/food/the body until late high school. But a recent interview I underwent for just this topic jogged my memory and revealed the opposite--the foundation for obsession had long been in place, and I have been aware of my body and all of the regulations placed thereupon since around 6 years old, and possibly much younger.

A few moments stick out for me. I remember in first grade standing with a friend on the playground, and squating to show her how that position made my legs bulge out on the sides. I also remember jiggling my thighs in a humorous frenzy asking, "what is this?"

I distinctly remember being in third grade and very distraught that I weighed 57 pounds, instead of the 52-54 pound range that I deemed appropriate.

That same year, I would look look at my profile in the reflection of the classroom window and decide that my sway back pronounced my butt in a very favorable way.

I remember in 5th grade deciding that I should do 25 sit-ups every night.

Perhaps the most interesting of my memories is in the beginning of middle school, when I was too skinny to fit into teen clothes and, consequently, was still stuck in the kids section. I was distressed because everything was baggy on my frame--but at the same time, I was well aware that I did not have washboard abs. I would cry because I was too skinny for the tight jeans, but apparently not skinny enough for the right stomach.

About a year ago, I uncovered my sketchbook from my elementary years. In horror, I skimmed the pages, suddenly understanding the basis and future development of my skewed body image and warped ideals. The pages were filled with women--but they weren't really women; they were practically skeletons. Each drawing had severely structured cheekbones, shoulder bones, clavicle bones, and other rib-related indentations. But I remember the years I drew those women, and I was never intending to draw "thin" or "attractive" women--I was just drawing what I perceived as plain women. That was my image of a seemingly normal, everyday female: rail thin, big lips, long eyelashes, long hair, jutting bones, and low-cut clothing.

There is no point in asking how this could have happened to my little mind--how at such a young age, a very thin girl could come to understand that certain parts were just too big. It is quite obvious why my brain internalized this feminized propaganda--because it has been draped everywhere for so long that as a child, I thought such things were natural.

This is an important realization and provokes a lot of questions: how do we work with young children to offset harmful representations of reality? Perhaps more difficult, how do we offset these representations later in life, after they have already been ingrained?

I have some ideas, but those are for another time. I think that looking at the impact of feminine representations on children, and tracing those experiences to adulthood, really adds depth to discussions of "vanity". There is an extent to which concern for the external is superficial, but those concerns are complicated by the fact that they have been commingled with embedded notions of the "natural." Understanding the intersection of age and the "body issue" really exposes the magnitude of the problem.

After all, eating disorder recovery centers are being opened for children only to deal with the increasing percentages of bulimia and anorexia among 10-year-olds and the like. Even younger is not uncommon.