Talk to Yourself as If Your Daughters Are Listening

by A Mother Who Just Gave Birth

Changes

I stood in the harsh lighting of the fitting room, three weeks postpartum, holding my breath as I wriggled into a dress that used to be my size.

My body still ached. My stomach was soft. The dress clung in places it never used to. I tugged at the hem, frowned at the mirror, and sighed.

From the bench in the corner, two tiny voices broke the silence.

“Mama, you look so beautiful.”

“Look you sparkle and shine.”

I turned to see my daughters — five and two— swinging their legs, eyes full of sincerity, not sarcasm, not pity. Just… admiration.

Suddenly, I was flooded with the awareness that every word I was about to say about myself would be a lesson for them.

How often had I said, “Ugh, I look gross,” or “I need to lose ten pounds,” in their presence, not realizing I was slowly writing the script for how they’d one day talk to themselves?

They Are Always Listening

I used to think the greatest risk of motherhood was physical — scraped knees, midnight fevers, car seat safety. But it’s not.

The real danger is in the words we let slip when we think no one’s paying attention. Especially when those words are about ourselves. As a mother, you are the role model. I once heard Beth Moore tell a story about a cat the had a litter of kittens when her leg was broken. The mother cat was unable to walk properly as she raised her kittens. When those kittens learned to walk, they all walked with their mother’s limp.

They are always listening. And more than that, they’re learning. How we treat our bodies. How we speak about our imperfections. How we measure self-worth.

And in that moment, as I stood under fluorescent lights with a dress I wasn’t sure fit, I realized: I wouldn’t let anyone talk to my daughters the way I sometimes talk to myself. So why was I giving myself permission to do it?

A Shift in the Mirror

Instead of tearing myself down, I smiled.

“You know what? I do like this color.”

“I think this dress is fun — and I feel strong in it.”

My daughters beamed. To them, I wasn’t a woman trying to bounce back. I was just “Mama”. I was their safe place, their example. And they wanted to see me love myself — not just tolerate myself.

That trip didn’t end with the perfect dress. But it ended with something better: a promise to speak to myself the way I want my daughters to speak to themselves one day.

Speak Life, Especially When You Don’t Feel It

This isn’t about toxic positivity. I still have moments when I want to hide under a hoodie and curse every button that won’t close. But I’ve learned that my daughters don’t need a perfect mom. They need a mom who models grace, confidence, and kindness — especially when it’s hard.

So now I whisper affirmations under my breath in the car. I say “thank you, that’s very kind of you” when someone compliments me, even if I don’t feel deserving. And I keep in mind that my daughters are always listening.

Because they’re not just learning how to speak to me.

They’re learning how to speak to themselves.

To every mom standing in front of a mirror today: Talk to yourself as if your daughters are listening. Because they are.

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The author is a military veteran, military spouse, and proud parent of both girls and boys.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.