Swords and Weighty Issues

Real conversation between HM (one and only daughter of mine, lovingly referred to here as "Hot Mess") and myself:

HM: "Mrs. Perry-Johnson isn't Jewish"
Me: "how do you know that?"
HM: "She wears sword earrings."
Me: Pause..."Oh, those are crosses. That's a symbol of her religion. Like a Jewish Star. She's a Christian."
HM: "Yeah...and also- she's skinny. Not like Jewish ladies".

My first thought was- FAIL. On two levels. First, the fact that my daughter doesn't know what a cross is and how the world is divided into Jew and "not Jew" for her. I fancied myself a more open mother, one who teaches her kids about all religions and that we're all just trying to find meaning in a chaotic world. That no matter what ones Higher Power is, the key is to believe in something greater than ourselves. That how you're raised usually dictates how you pray. It's the comfort of childhood memories that make ritual meaningful. That no matter what you wear around your neck or what book you read in your house of worship, we are all searching for the exact same thing.
Instead, my daughter think Christians wear swords and that Jewish women are all fat.

Which brings me to the second FAIL. I have an eating disorder. Period. My relationship with food is jacked up. Since I was HMs age, almost every awesome memory revolves around a meal. I remember lying in bed at 5, thinking about which cereal I was going to have for breakfast. I remember when my mother would get home from Publix and I would unpack the groceries and get super stoked about all the food that we had in the house. Every heart wrenching  break-up caused me to shun food entirely. It was hands-down the best diet ever. I couldn't stomach a single bite. Then, when I would crawl out from that dark place, I would rekindle my relationship with food....hard-core.
I've tried every diet- counted carbs, counted points, counted bites. I've belonged and paid dues to Weight Watchers for so long, it's become my charity of choice. I feel that if I still pay to belong, I get some sort of diet credit. I've belonged to many gyms and pledged to exercise at least 3x/week. That just made me feel like shit 3x/week when I didn't go. I did couch to 5K to couch to 5K to couch. I've even tried the "post-dieting" thing. Like, you know what world? I'm over this. I'm just going to eat when I'm hungry and not dedicate so much mind space to this issue. Well, guess what? I don't really know when I'm hungry because it's SO not about the food. It's complicated and has layers of crazy to it but that's for a different night. My point here was that I never want HM to inherit this crazy. I don't want her to have food issues, weight issues, body image issues. I want her to eat when she's hungry and enjoy her bites. I want her to not eat when she's nervous or bored. I want her to eat even if some dick steps all over her heart in college. I want her to look in the mirror and be OK with whatever she sees. Muffin top and all. I don't want her to disconnect and lose herself in food. I want her to exercise because it makes her feel good or because she gets a trophy at the end of it. If she misses a day of exercise, I want her to know that she still kicks ass. I want her to be present for every awesome and not so awesome moment and not look to numb anything with food (or fill in the blank vice). She woke up recently in the middle of the night screaming from a nightmare. With tears streaming down her face, she told me that she didn't get a piece of cake at her friends birthday party last week. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I laughed.

Basically, I don't want her to think that all Jewish women are fat or concerned about their size. Or dieting/binging all the time. I get why she thinks that (duh). But it's ugly and makes me realize that I need to model a healthy way to eat for her. And for me.

So, I answered HM as follows:
"Christian women are not all skinny. Jewish women are not all fat"

Without pause, she answered-
" Can we go to Brusters?"