Eight years ago, while watching their daughters play soccer on weekends in the town of Piedmont, Calif., Elane Rehr and Brenda Richardson would marvel at how comfortable the girls seemed in their bodies—and worry about how to help the 8-year-olds hold on to that feeling. "As girls grow up, they become more self-conscious and their self-esteem plummets," says Rehr, 55, a psychology professor at Diablo Valley College in Pleasant Hill, outside San Francisco. "Parents see this happening, but there's a void in knowing how to deal with it."

Determined to fill that void, Rehr and Richardson, 53, a freelance writer, have written 101 Ways to Help Your Daughter Love Her Body. Drawing on research studies and the authors' own experiences, it provides tips on how to help girls (four out of five of whom, by age 10, are afraid of being fat, according to the book) feel secure with their physiques at each stage of development. For example, they advise, stories read to toddlers should feature strong female characters. As girls get older, parents should talk to them about how women are portrayed in fashion magazines and TV shows like Ally McBeal, which, the authors say, suggest "that only slender women have successful careers." And in a chapter devoted to fathers, men are urged to "tone down" their negative comments about the bodies of high-profile women; otherwise, the authors write, their daughters might fret, "If Dad thinks that actress is a pig, he must think I look even worse."

Published in August, 101 Ways has resonated with parents as well as mental-health professionals. Betsy Cohen, a psychotherapist in Berkeley, Calif., who has treated many eating-disorders patients, praises the book's preventive approach. "If a girl can learn at 10 to like her body," she says, "she'll continue to feel secure about herself even as her body changes."

As the authors point out, however, it is vital for a mother to practice self-love if she hopes to teach it to her daughter. That's something Richardson learned firsthand. The younger of two girls raised in Brooklyn, N.Y., by a single mother, Richardson says, "I was chunky growing up. People told me, 'You'd be so pretty if you lost weight.' "

Richardson tried. Over her 15-year journalism career, which included a stint at Florida's Palm Beach Post, she bounced from one diet to the next with little success. Finally, at 40, intent on getting her eating under control, she "undertook a lot of emotional work," she says. Facing her often difficult youth—which included her sister's manic depression—Richardson says she "realized that food was my way of medicating myself."

A regular running program now keeps Richardson fit, but two years ago—as she and Rehr had once worried—body-image issues surfaced in her daughter Carolyn, now 15. The family, which also includes Richardson's husband, Mark, 52, an Episcopal priest, and son Mark Jr., 14, had just moved from Piedmont to New York City, leaving behind friends like the Rehrs, a situation Carolyn found "really hard," she says. "I'm not a city person." The teen coped by overeating, until Richardson decided to try a tactic she later included in 101 Ways: She started walking with Carolyn two miles to school every morning. "Thanks to my mom, I see my body as a tool that I should try to take care of," says Carolyn, who now participates in three varsity sports at Manhattan's York Preparatory School. "It's all about making women strong."

That's a message Rehr has long tried to send. A member of the track-and-field team at Bellmore, N.Y.'s Mepham High School, Rehr says, "My body wasn't an issue. I always thought my competency would take me where I wanted to go." Her destination turned out to be the field of psychology. Two years after getting her master's from San Francisco State University in 1971, Rehr joined the faculty at Diablo Valley College, where she teaches introductory and women's psychology.

By the time Rehr, who is married to mortgage broker Howard Davis, 51, gave birth to daughter Danielle in 1985, she says she "felt pretty confident about how to compensate" for whatever negative feelings Danielle might develop about her body. Setting an example with power walks and gym workouts, Rehr "always taught me to take care of my body," Danielle says, "so I know it really well."

So well, in fact, that when she experienced dizziness and weakness in 1999, Danielle knew immediately to seek medical help. The diagnosis was an acute form of leukemia, requiring three months of chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, for which her only sibling, brother Deren, 13, was the donor.

Today, with her cancer in remission, Danielle, 16, is thriving physically, and, with her mother's and Richardson's insights, she is thriving emotionally as well. "My friends always talk about being fat and having no boobs," she says. "But I think that what matters is who you are inside." It's a message the authors hope every girl will get. "Parents have a responsibility to provide a more emotionally stable life for the next generation," Richardson says. "We owe it to our children."

Galina Espinoza
Elizabeth Fernandez in Piedmont