Profile - Meg Boggs

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Meg Boggs

Meg Boggs is a mother, powerlifter, creator, and body positive advocate who has made it her mission to help women embrace their insecurities. With advocacy from mental health awareness to fitness inclusivity promoted alongside body-positive imagery, Meg continues to spark discourse about fat bodies and the experiences of plus size women. In her debut book, Fitness For Every Body, Meg shares what it’s like to navigate life as a fat athlete, while encouraging those like her to confidently take up space and embrace life unapologetically. She spends most of her time writing, speaking, and creating content around topics like fitness inclusivity, mental health awareness, and self-acceptance.

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Meg Boggs

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“We’re so conditioned to believe that larger bodies are only seen as potential stories for loss. You’re only ever considered successful when it’s paired with a weight loss story. I’m determined to show the endless possibilities to gain confidence, gain happiness, gain strength, gain flexibility, gain a real shot at experiencing life. Not just focused on the life to be lived after reaching an unrealistic goal weight. It’s one of the most empowering feelings when we let go of any stigmas and embrace our endless capabilities through fitness and movement.“
- Meg Boggs

My Mission

I’m a powerlifter, body positivity advocate, creator, and author of Fitness For Every Body: Strong, Confident, & Empowered At Any Size. My mission is to inspire women and mothers and humans of all kinds, shapes, colors, and sizes to find the strength and courage to embrace life, love endlessly and live intentionally with an overall holistic approach to wellness.

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4 Ways to Avoid Diet Culture Talk with Your Little One

Did you know that by around age 3, kids have already been exposed to diet culture messages? "Diet culture" is referring to our society’s obsession with hyper-focusing on weight, weight loss, and dieting. Even though national surveys estimate 30 million people in America will have an eating disorder at some point in their lives. It quickly becomes so much less about the good that food does for our bodies and so much more about which foods are labeled as “bad” for our bodies. By the age of 3, this messaging is already in the process of becoming normalized for them. As parents, we have the opportunity to change the conversation around food as early as their language begins to develop. My daughter, Maci, just turned four recently and we’ve been having so many amazing conversations about food that stay far away from diet culture messaging. Here are four tips that will help get you started in shifting the conversation with your kids: 1. Teach them what different foods will do for their body. It’s much more impactful to share why we love eating foods rather than simply stating how they’re just “good” for us. Kids are so curious about food and their bodies, put the two together in a positive way. Instead of focusing on certain foods being “healthy” versus “not healthy,” try talking about what they do specifically. For example, “orange food helps us see in the dark”, and “blue/purple foods give us a strong brain.” This helps build a solid foundation for them to see food for more than good vs. bad. And it encourages them to get curious about different foods. 2. Allow them to remove something from their plate. It’s okay if they prefer certain foods over others or aren’t feeling ready to try a new food. When kids say no to something, it’s their body’s alert system reacting to something that might either make them feel fear, disgust, or uncomfortable. We end up teaching them to ignore these signals and simply please other people first by demanding them to eat their entire plate or give it at least one bite to try. This gives them an opportunity to trust their bodies by listening to it and confidently say no (in all kinds of situations, even outside of food.) A simple “is your tummy feeling full?” goes a lot further than a demand to finish their entire plate. 3. Try serving everything together. It really is all about how you say and present things. The moment you say they have to eat their veggies to get that dessert, all they hear is that veggies are yucky and desserts are yummy. And this leads to internalizing veggies as something negative. When it comes to candy (or bigger desserts outside of fruit), maybe talk about how our tongues really get to enjoy lollipops and candies, but sometimes it’s a little too much for our tummies. So, we like to create special moments for those when our tummies are ready. 4. Discuss your behavior instead of your weight loss. I think a good amount of us grew up seeing the women in our lives doing everything possible to lose weight and/or remain thin. It’s quite clear and obvious, especially at a young impressionable age. A simple shift in the way you approach the conversation could be life changing. Instead of saying something like “it’s unhealthy to be fat, so mommy is trying to lose weight and only eats these foods,” try “mommy loves eating these foods and moving her body because it helps keep her body strong.” Discuss the things you’re doing for yourself, the behaviors themselves, and how they impact you. This might even help you begin to reframe your own thoughts around why you choose certain foods and activities while thinking of ways to explain them to your kiddos without discussing weight loss. The best thing we can do is give them the opportunity to build a strong, healthy relationship with food that isn’t focused on restriction and old messages that diet culture sold us for far too long!

Overshare

Letter To My Boobs

I gave birth to my daughter Maci on November 4th, 2017. It took us three months to achieve a successful latch. I exclusively pumped. My nipples bled. And we breastfed for only a few weeks before my boobs deflated and dried up. They sagged and pointed down at the ground at a much steeper angle than ever before. Oddly shaped, stretched, and marked. Everything about them had changed. I felt a whole lot of different ways all at once. From sadness to anger to guilt. But I knew this moment was important. So I sat down. Put on the saddest playlist I could find, cried my eyes out, and wrote a letter to my boobs. Here is what that letter said: To my hardworking boobs that did their best — At the beginning of this journey, you hurt me. I felt disappointed in you—in us. I was overwhelmed with sadness, anger, and confusion as to why you and I were failing at breastfeeding. I expected more from you. I expected us to work with one another and provide for Maci. For three whole months, I felt this pain. This discomfort. This awful misguided hate towards you. I held these feelings in and never once told you how I felt. I forced you to work overtime and pump out milk every 4 hours. I drained you. I made you bleed. I made you crack. I made you sting at the touch of water, at the touch of my bra, at the touch of anything. I forced you to produce bottle after bottle as you ached and throbbed. I cranked up my pumping intensity and shriveled you up. Then on January 29th, three months into our fighting and disagreements, you and I made it work. We both worked together and allowed Maci to latch on to us. We celebrated and cheered together as she gulped down our liquid gold. It was the moment I had been waiting for this entire time. The moment we had been arguing about and the moment I had been begging and pleading for you to help provide me. It was the first time that I felt thankful for you. Then on March 22nd, you and I had our final moment breastfeeding Maci. The last time we would experience this together. The time had come where you could no longer produce enough milk. My initial reaction was sadness. You and I wept together in the shower. I will always remember this moment because it was in this moment that I finally took the time to forgive you and tell you that you did such a good job. For the first time, I actually acknowledged your efforts. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t until just now that I did this for you. Thanked you and applauded all that you had done, had sacrificed, had felt and been through these last 5 months. So now I am here to tell you this, my beautiful, saggy, never-be-the-same-again boobs. I am so sorry. You deserve an award for what you accomplished because it meant everything to me. You tried so hard with everything you had to give and that will always be so special to me. You allowed me two whole months of a breastfeeding relationship with Maci. You provided me with these memories that will never be forgotten. I hope you will forgive me for waiting so long to let you know that I know you did your best. That your best WAS good enough. And that it’s okay. I still love you and appreciate you. I know I put you through a lot and you also didn’t expect for this to be so difficult. And I hope to learn from this experience so that next time, whatever might happen, you will know that I will do my best as well to accept whatever comes our way. We are in this together. Whether you thrive as udders or continue your normal fun bags role, life is too short to be upset about situations that are outside of our control. Thank you, boobs. For everything.

Meg Boggs

Parent Ambassador