Every parent of a teenager has heard some version of the question: “Do I look okay?”
In my house, it often comes amid the usual back-to-school chaos: shoes in the hallway, clothing tags on countertops, missing jeans and an alarming number of opinions about water bottles.
Sometimes, “Do I look okay?” means exactly what it sounds like: Does this shirt work with these pants? Sometimes, it is an invitation to offer reassurance. But sometimes, the question underneath is different:
Is my body okay?
Not every moment of insecurity signals a serious problem. Still, parents need to recognize subtle changes in a teenager’s language, emotions and behavior because body-image struggles and disordered eating do not always look the way families expect.
A recent study published using data from the National Survey of Children’s Health found that nearly 30% of adolescents ages 12 to 17 had at least one caregiver-reported disordered-eating behavior in the previous year. Among adolescent girls, the number was about one in three.
That doesn’t mean one in three girls has an eating disorder. It does mean the early behaviors are common enough that parents should know what they are looking for.
And they do not always look dramatic.
Eating disorders rarely announce themselves at breakfast.
They can begin with a new interest in “clean eating.” A decision to cut out sugar. Then carbs. Then dairy. A sudden insistence that she “already ate.” A new fitness goal that somehow cannot tolerate a rest day. More time in front of the mirror, or less. Baggy clothes. Skipping family meals. Irritability when plans interfere with exercise. Going to the bathroom immediately after eating. A growing list of foods that are “bad,” “gross,” or frightening.
Parents often look for visible weight loss when they should really be looking for changes in behavior. A child can be struggling in any body size; the question we need to ask is not, “Does she look sick?” but rather, “Is food, exercise, weight or appearance beginning to take up more space in her life?”
Social media can make that space crowded quickly.
Teenagers have always compared themselves to other teenagers. I grew up in the era of Seventeen Magazine, which offers plenty of fodder on its own.
Today, comparison lives in a teenager’s pocket, refreshes endlessly and is more amplified than ever before.
The American Psychological Association has warned that appearance-focused social comparison online is associated with poorer body image and disordered eating, particularly among girls. And the problem, outlined in The Anxious Generation, is not simply that teenagers see beautiful people. They see bodies edited, filtered, posed, lit, curated and occasionally selling them protein powder.
Then we hand our kids a phone and tell them not to compare. God bless us. We mean well.
Parents don’t need to panic about every selfie, skipped snack or complaint about a bad hair day. Adolescence is awkward. Bodies change. Identity gets built and rebuilt several times before lunch.
But we do need to pay attention to patterns.
We also need to pay attention to ourselves. Children learn what bodies mean partly by listening to adults talk about our own.
They hear us call ourselves “bad” because we ate dessert. They hear, “I have to work this off.” They hear compliments about weight loss and jokes about gaining weight. They notice when the women they love refuse to be photographed or apologize for taking up space in a swimsuit.
I know. This one is inconvenient.
It would be much easier if protecting their body image was simply a matter of confiscating TikTok and serving vegetables.
Instead, some of the work happens at our own dinner tables.
We can talk about food without assigning its moral value. We can talk about exercise as something that helps bodies become strong, capable and alive rather than smaller. We can compliment girls on things that have nothing to do with being pretty: their courage, humor, curiosity, loyalty, creativity, kindness and ability to recover when life is hard. Likewise, we can commend boys on their humility, creativity and confidence as opposed to just their physical strength and athletic achievements.
And when something feels off, we can ask.
Not accuse. Not interrogate.
Ask.
“I’ve noticed eating seems more stressful lately. How are you feeling about food and your body?”
Then listen long enough to survive the silence.
Back-to-school season comes with plenty of things parents cannot control. We cannot choose who sits beside our kids at lunch. We cannot remove every cruel comment, filtered image or hallway comparison. We cannot follow them into every locker room or scroll every inch of their feeds.
But we can make home a place where their bodies are not projects.
So, when she comes downstairs in the third outfit, already running late, and asks:
“Do I look okay?”
Sure, answer the outfit question. But every once in a while, answer the bigger one too:
“Yes. Your body is allowed to change. It is allowed to take up space. It is not the most interesting thing about you. And you never have to change something about your body to be worthy of being seen.”
There is such hope here—in the space of just ‘being there’ for our kids. One conversation at the kitchen table will not erase every cruel comment or filtered image your teen sees, but when we listen, ask again tomorrow and remind our kids that they are loved for far more than how they look, we give them something steady to come home to. That quiet inner confidence that builds within them comes from our active presence and intentionality in opening the door for these real, vulnerable conversations.
Dr. Rebecca Taylor is an Assistant Professor of Counseling in the College of Adult and Graduate Studies at Colorado Christian University.