Dear Daughter, I Hope You Don’t Grow Up So Fierce That You End Up Hard

I hope, with all my heart, to raise you to be strong and confident and independent. You are beautiful, smart, worthy, and you can stand shoulder to shoulder with any other person standing on this Earth.

But know this: When a pendulum swings, you can expect extremes. And the pendulum, it’s swinging.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. We’ve moved from barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen type ideals to leaning in. We’ve gone from corseted maidens with bound feet and chastity belts to a less… well, restricted existence. We’ve gone from Rubenesque voluptuousness, to extreme waifdom, and on to body positivity.

But the pendulum is still swinging and we haven’t reached a center point of rest. There is no rest. Not yet, at least.

As long there’s a voice out there dictating to you how to think, to act, to feel as a woman, that pendulum is exerting its force on you.

And right now, it’s telling you to be fierce. Toughen up, Buttercup. Slay. Join a #girlgang, fight with pussy power… roll with your bitches. Suck up your tears and fight… like a girl. Punch them where it hurts. Your pussy grabs back.

Never mind that it’s telling you pretty much everything it has told boys for centuries. And how well did that work?

When the pendulum swings, you can expect extremes. But you don’t have to swing with it.

You don’t have to wear a pantsuit to be a real woman… or a vagina on your head like it’s a thinking cap. Because let’s face it, we’ve seen major flaws in putting your genitals before your mind.

There’s no need to be ferociously aggressive. Violently hostile. Menacing… or mute and docile. Either way, you’d be closing yourself off to life…off to love and life and laughter.

You don’t have to put on your lipstick like it’s war paint, daring someone to ask you to smile. And if they do ask you to smile… you can smile back, if you feel like it. Not everything is an act of aggression.

You can walk this Earth like it’s your home, not a battlefield. So… no, you don’t have to wear a face or a mask or a bra for that matter. Don’t let anyone tell you when you need your battle armor. You’re not in survival mode.

My point is sweetheart... Don’t give others the right to define how you get to be a woman. That’s for you to discover.

I hope, with all my heart, to raise you to be strong and confident and independent. But you don’t have to be so fierce that you end up hard.

When the pendulum swings, you can expect extremes. Or… you step outside of that force field.

You don’t need that coercion. The best act of defiance is to be uniquely you.

Tags : confessions   daughters   

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