I’m a dad who is teaching my daughters that our bodies are strong, healthy, and capable. I love swimming laps with them, and choose to wear a 🩲 that allows me to move my body through the water. I posted a story to IG showing a swim session, and was sent the following message. “OMG! No one should see that 🥹🤢🙈.” That message was incredibly triggering.
When I was in 8th grade, my parents divorced. I didn’t know how to manage my feelings, I felt like my world was spiraling out of control. As a 14 year old kid, I attempted to projecting a facade to the world that everything was okay.
To manage my feelings, I turned to food and rapidly gained weight. I knew my body was changing, and I felt shame. It became another area where I felt out of control.
My extended family lived nearby to my mom’s new house and one afternoon we went over to visit. They had glass jars containing cookies, pretzels, and gumdrops on the counter.
As I’d done many times before, I walked into the kitchen and put my hand in the jar of cookies. A family member walked into the kitchen, walked over the counter, stood behind it and stared at me.
“All that snacking is why you’re so fat,” he said, looking into my eyes.
I pulled my hand from the jar. I stood completely still. My mom, overhearing the comment, walked into the kitchen.
“Don’t you ever speak to him like that again,” she said. “We’re leaving.”
Together we walked out.
A few months later, another family member said, “You have the same stature and build as your grandpa. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to have a belly like him.”
I once again decided to take control.
In high school, I developed an eating disorder called ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder). I would brush my teeth up to 10 times a day in order to suppress my appetite.
In college, I started running in the mornings and afternoons to drop weight. I started running half marathons, then a full marathon. I realized that the more I ran, the more I could eat, without gaining weight.
In my 20s, I developed a much healthier relationship with food. I shifted from a “run to eat” to an “eat to run” mindset. I began to accept my body. I got stronger. And I also started swimming laps, as a form of conditioning for running.
Two summers ago, I sustained a severe back injury that resulted in a pinched nerve down my entire left leg. I couldn’t sit or stand for long periods of time. With the help of a physical therapist, my body healed. I stopped running and focused again on swimming as part of my recovery.
I purchased lap swim suits and other swim gear like swim caps and goggles that helped me increase my speed in the water. Swimming became a physical and mental exercise for me. And I loved it.
It’s ironic that because of swimming, I once again find myself on the receiving end of negative comments about my body. But I refuse to let the comments take me back to that place I was nearly 25 years ago.
I am strong.
I am confident.
And I know that I have a healthy body.
The same is true for my daughters.
My wife and I live with our three young girls in a 700-square-foot apartment in New York City. I started Tidy Dad to help others tidy, simplify, and find joy in their lives. I firmly believe the tidying process can transform your life. I’d love for you to join me in exploring ways that tidying can make room for what’s important in life.
I’m a dad who is teaching my daughters that our bodies are strong, healthy, and capable. I love swimming laps with them, and choose to wear a 🩲 that allows me to move my body through the water. I posted a story to IG showing a swim session, and was sent the following message. “OMG! No one should see that 🥹🤢🙈.” That message was incredibly triggering.
When I was in 8th grade, my parents divorced. I didn’t know how to manage my feelings, I felt like my world was spiraling out of control. As a 14 year old kid, I attempted to projecting a facade to the world that everything was okay.
To manage my feelings, I turned to food and rapidly gained weight. I knew my body was changing, and I felt shame. It became another area where I felt out of control.
My extended family lived nearby to my mom’s new house and one afternoon we went over to visit. They had glass jars containing cookies, pretzels, and gumdrops on the counter.
As I’d done many times before, I walked into the kitchen and put my hand in the jar of cookies. A family member walked into the kitchen, walked over the counter, stood behind it and stared at me.
“All that snacking is why you’re so fat,” he said, looking into my eyes.
I pulled my hand from the jar. I stood completely still. My mom, overhearing the comment, walked into the kitchen.
“Don’t you ever speak to him like that again,” she said. “We’re leaving.”
Together we walked out.
A few months later, another family member said, “You have the same stature and build as your grandpa. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to have a belly like him.”
I once again decided to take control.
In high school, I developed an eating disorder called ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder). I would brush my teeth up to 10 times a day in order to suppress my appetite.
In college, I started running in the mornings and afternoons to drop weight. I started running half marathons, then a full marathon. I realized that the more I ran, the more I could eat, without gaining weight.
In my 20s, I developed a much healthier relationship with food. I shifted from a “run to eat” to an “eat to run” mindset. I began to accept my body. I got stronger. And I also started swimming laps, as a form of conditioning for running.
Two summers ago, I sustained a severe back injury that resulted in a pinched nerve down my entire left leg. I couldn’t sit or stand for long periods of time. With the help of a physical therapist, my body healed. I stopped running and focused again on swimming as part of my recovery.
I purchased lap swim suits and other swim gear like swim caps and goggles that helped me increase my speed in the water. Swimming became a physical and mental exercise for me. And I loved it.
It’s ironic that because of swimming, I once again find myself on the receiving end of negative comments about my body. But I refuse to let the comments take me back to that place I was nearly 25 years ago.
I am strong.
I am confident.
And I know that I have a healthy body.
The same is true for my daughters.
Hi, my name is Tyler Moore. My wife and I live with our three young daughters in a 700- square-foot apartment in New York City. I began my tidying journey when an early-30’s crisis invited me to reflect upon, challenge, and change my patterns of daily living. I quit my job as a school administrator, returned to teaching, and started Tidy Dad to help others tidy, simplify, and find joy in their lives. I firmly believe the tidying process can transform your life. I’d love for you to join me in exploring ways that tidying can make room for what’s important in life.