The other day I was looking for my eyebrow brush. I know, if you're one of my male readers you may be left wondering why on earth anyone would need such a thing, so I'll just tell you straight up. Yes, there is such a thing. Yes, women really do use them. No, they're not expensive – no need to launch into a rant over them. The point here is, mine was missing.
It's not something I would misplace – it always goes back to the very same spot. I don't wander the house aimlessly brushing my lustrous eyebrows. It's not something Mike would use, and if I asked him its whereabouts we'd have to have the whole conversation discussed above. Totally not worth the effort. As I was grumbling and searching, I realized that quite a few things in my bathroom repertoire were missing. Things were not as I had left them – there had definitely been some rummaging going on.
It only took a few steps down the hall to realize where the eyebrow brush and a handful of other beauty supplies were: Elena's room.
It's funny how quickly it happens. One moment you're guarding your bathroom for fear of what your baby girl will get into that will send you scrambling for poison control. The next thing you know, you're guarding your bathroom for fear of what your big girl will get into that will send you scrambling for Sephora.
In all actuality, I know she's not old enough to warrant any of these primping supplies. It will be years before she'll leave this house wearing actual make-up. There is nothing on her body that needs curled or tweezed or buffed.
She is 8 and she is beautiful and she knows it down to her bones. In the evenings, as I read to her and she readies herself for bed, she spends a good portion of her time in front of her full-length mirror. She poses and preens and juts her hips this way and that. I never comment, just keep reading and let her do her thing. It's the kind of thing that might make a parent uncomfortable – this overt love of her body. It doesn't bother me, though. And while I would never out and out encourage it (work it, baby!), I refuse to discourage it.
You see, I can never remember a time when I was in love with the way I looked. At Elena's age I was already awkward, with big teeth and even bigger glasses. I was always on the chunky side, never slim or even athletically-built. If I spent time gazing in front of the mirror, it was never in admiration. More likely, I was picking apart this feature or that.
It wasn't until near the end of high school that I realized that I wasn't the ugly duckling I'd imagined myself to be. And you might think that's okay, that's normal, and maybe it is. But whether it was that it took me so long to figure out my own inherent beauty, or just a general lack of self-esteem, that realization that I was attractive did not set me free.
It was as if knowing it was there, but that it hadn't always been there, rendered it not as special. I had a sense that this attractiveness was fleeting and I had better use it while I could. And so began a string of poor choices throughout my early college years. I cheated on a boy that I really did love, just because someone else paid attention to me. In the time between that failed relationship and when I started dating Mike seriously, I had flings with boys who didn't really care about me, let alone love me.
Even today, after years of unconditional love and time to mature in thought, I still have a warped sense of my self. I still don't see beauty where others do. It comes and goes, but most days I still feel as awkward as my middle-school self.
The world I want for my daughter is one where she can love her body, whether it's a size 6 or a 12 or a 22, and not feel guilty about it. I want a world where it's okay to feel pretty and smart, hand raised to answer a teacher's question, lip gloss in the other. I want her to go out in a world where she can dress in a way that makes her feel feminine without having to worry that she'll be blamed for the effect it has on a boy's ability to act like a gentlemen. I know there are more pressing issues in the world today, but these things? I think they're important too.
That's why I refuse to let my own insecurities sway my daughter's perception of herself. No, I won't be buying her eye shadow or taking her to the salon any time soon. I don't make it a point to shower her with compliments on her sparkling eyes or her killer arms. But I will let her exercise some vanity. And she can even use my eyebrow brush.
This post is part of a blog carnival to help raise awareness for the Joyful Heart Foundation. It's being hosted by my friend Rebecca over at Country-Fried Mama today. The Joyful Heart Foundation is a non-profit founded by Mariska Hargitay. Joyful Heart’s initial and primary mission is to help victims of sexual assault mend their minds, bodies and spirits and reclaim their lives. The foundation is also at the forefront of an effort to end a disheartening backlog of tens of thousands of rape kits in labs across the country. I hope you'll take a moment to read some of the other essays, and if you feel called to do so, lend your support to the Joyful Heart Foundation.
Hopefully she keeps realizing just how special she is. I get so sad when I see young girls thinking that they are ugly, fat, or not special. The thought of teenagers dieting or developing eating disorders just depresses me.
Beautifully said, Angie. I laughed out loud at this — “One moment you’re guarding your bathroom for fear of what your baby girl will get into that will send you scrambling for poison control. The next thing you know, you’re guarding your bathroom for fear of what your big girl will get into that will send you scrambling for Sephora” — but the serious sentiment resonates for me, too. Hooray for our beautiful, self-assured daughters! May the world deserve them.
Funny this should cross your keyboard today. I’ve had that same train of thought running through my head for a few months now as I recognized Evelyn “mugging” herself in her newly discovered vanity mirror… Some days it’s hard to figure out who’s really going through the growth spurt.
Nice to have a guy weigh in. I think we females are 100x harder on ourselves than the good men in our lives are, that's for sure.
Thank you for promoting such an awesome cause! And also, "May the world deserve them?" Love.
I really like this and feel the same way. You make a good point about not condemning appreciation of beauty, but having vast interpretations of it. I found your blog through #endthebacklog!
oh this is awonderful heart warming post…i am glad she has that confidence and sense of self worth…i just came from another in the carnival with similar thoughts…so important to kids…
What a beautiful thing a positive self image is. I want the same thing for my daughter. The ability to make decisions based on her strengths and not on her insecurities. Thank you for raising your voice for Joyful Heart Foundation and survivors everywhere.
You are an awesome mom. Yup…that’s all I got. Really well said.
My tweezers disappear – and my facial scrub – but it’s from boys. I’ve even caught one in my moisturizer! AAArrrggghhhh!
I love your post! I had huge buck teeth (Bugs Bunny must have been a relative), was the tallest person in my classes forever, incredibly shy because of it. My mom would try to put me in Shirly Temple Curls, and I would just cringe wondering why I couldn’t be beautiful like I was. Like you, I have tried to instill a fostering and encouragement about the beauty of who they are. Shyness does not need to be pushed – it just needs time to melt.
My littlest guy has a freckle under one eye. He never thought anything about it until people started teasing him at school – then his brothers started teasing him. It kills me. I told him God put it there. My other son has freckles on his face (they started appearing when he was about 9 – he was terribly upset then because I didn’t have freckles) – and I just laughed and said the angles sprinkled cinnamon over him. The older boys teases one of them about a uni-brow. He has amazingly beautiful eyebrows (notice I said 2). Now that he’s older – he makes sure there’s 2. Instilling a sense of self-worth and confidence in who they are sometimes takes a parent pointing out getting them to look at something from a different angle, a different perspective – diminishing the effect of people who would tear them down.
I love your post! I love your view! I love that you have a girl borrowing your stuff!!!!
Thank you, Brian, for your kind words. I just had a chance to read your poem and it took my breath away.
Thanks, Sara! I'll remind my daughter that I'm an awesome mom in about 5 years, when she probably won't agree. But I'll be like, "Oh yeah? The internet said so!"
Just Like The Number
Project 3(six)5: A Year in Photos
Twitter: katydid6
Thank you! I had no idea I'd have to worry about Eli getting into my stuff at some point, too. Better buy some stock in Sephora.
Just Like The Number
Project 3(six)5: A Year in Photos
Twitter: katydid6
Angie, this is both funny and poignant at the same time. My daughter has never met a mirror she doesn’t like! And one of the things I hear her singing is that line from the Mary J Blige songs “I like what I see when I’m looking at me, walking past a mirror”.
Like you, I don’t look in the mirror and say ‘Dang, I’m gorgeous!’, so it’s nice to have a daughter who does.
I think girls grow up so fast now — which is probably so cliche b/c I’m sure our moms said that too.
Thank you for sharing this lovely story and being part of Country-Fried Mama’s link up.