mrs/Moment/Getty ImagesMy son was 8 years old when his father first forced him to think about the way his body looked. Until that day, I think he thought of his body as a propeller. The thing that moved him from one adventure to another. He had strong legs to push him higher on the swings or pedal his bike as he rode around the neighborhood in his Superman pajamas and cowboy boots on Saturday mornings. He had strong arms that caught footballs his older brothers threw him or bounced basketballs in our backyard. He had solid little hands that painted with sure fingers or held mine with easy trus...
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