Ordinary Days | The strength of our girls

by

As the mother of two young daughters, the concept of beauty is often on my mind. Not Kate’s and Sela’s physical appearance, but how everyone and everything around them defines beauty — specifically women’s beauty. 

No matter how many perfectly proportioned Barbie dolls I refuse to buy, no matter how tight-lipped I try to be about my own physical appearance, the idea of what’s beautiful and what’s not has already slipped in.

Four-year-old Sela will prance into the den wearing one of the many princess/fairy/queen dresses in her dress-up box asking, “Now am I beautiful?”

Six-year-old Kate will see a woman with long flowing hair and say, “She’s soooo beautiful.” 

Thankfully, at these tender ages, the idea of size in relation to beauty hasn’t been an issue. However, I worry I may have unwittingly introduced that idea to Kate. At school drop-off one morning, I saw a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. “You look great,” I said. “You look so skinny!” I knew she’d been trying to lose weight and figured it would make her day to hear those words. It did — she grinned and said thanks.

I, on the other hand, still cringe at having uttered such a trite, thoughtless comment, and in front of Kate no less. Why not “refreshed” or “healthy” or “happy”? Why a word that’s so synonymous with female physical beauty? Yes, Kate is barely 40 pounds, and maybe it didn’t register, but lately it seems every time I think something will go over her head, it instead goes right in her ears and comes back later in the form of a pointed, intelligent question.

She’s growing up too much for me to think she just won’t notice certain comments or concepts.

All this isn’t to say we should never tell our daughters they look pretty or lovely or beautiful. I still get a little thrill when my father tells me I look nice. (I like to think he’s good at recognizing beauty, since he’s married to the biggest beauty of all.)

But are there words we should be using with our young girls other than “beautiful” and “pretty?” Something other than what our culture tells them they need to be in order to be accepted, valued, respected?

I can tell my girls all day long they’re brave, strong, determined, courageous, smart, thoughtful or kind, but Dove’s Campaign for Beauty commercials tell them, “You too can be beautiful”; the Disney princesses show them the beautiful ones win the battles and get the boys; even the city of Birmingham tells them “You are beautiful.”

And those aren’t all bad things — but I wonder if just the fact of using “beauty” (however you define it) as such a highly esteemed trait can be damaging to young girls who are looking to anyone and anything to tell them they are worthy. There has to be more to being worthy than our beauty.

A few years ago, one Super Bowl commercial made me weep. Someone off-camera asked people to do things like throw a ball, run, jump and fight “like a girl.” Adults — both men and women — acted silly and immature, showing that “like a girl” basically meant being weak and unable to perform. 

Then they asked young girls to do those same things “like a girl.” They put on their game faces and threw those balls, kicked their legs, punched the air, ran as fast as they could. It had absolutely nothing to do with how they looked; instead, it was about doing their best and trying their hardest. 

Maybe that’s what we need to teach our girls: Who cares what you look like? Who cares even if you fail? Just get out there and be your smart, brave self. Add your own spin and sweetness to the world. Try your hardest; do what you can, and that will be more than enough.

I’d love to connect! Email me at LaurenKDenton@gmail.com, find me on Twitter @LaurenKDenton, on Facebook, or visit my website LaurenKDenton.com.

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