The movie Skin made me really think about this topic. It came up again last night at dinner with my parents when my mother again remarked that I need to put on weight--to at least get to be a size 6 so that I "look like I've had children". I try to not let her comments bother me. I'm happy at my current weight and I'm working hard to maintain it. I try to remember that she's from a different generation and grew up in a different culture. I try to remind myself that when I was a size 16, she had negative comments to make then too so realistically, there is probably no size that I could be that would be ideal. And if I did somehow reach that magical perfect size, there would be something else that wouldn't be perfect. I know that intellectually. But it still feels like I'm falling short and not quite measuring up to some standard. And never will.
So when do you finally accept that you will never get your mother's approval? When do you stop looking for it?