Don’t call my daughter beautiful

If you read the title of this post, you would probably infer that I’m jealous of my gorgeous daughter. NOT true! Maybe a little. Just kidding. (Or am I?) Read on…
I took my daughter with me to a family event recently. I walked her around and introduced her to all my friends. Several of whom commented, “Oooh you’re so pretty” or “You’re beautiful!” Anya was beaming, grinning from ear to ear. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Everyone likes compliments (except maybe Blendra). It may have been my imagination but I’m pretty sure she began to strut a little after that. Oh sheesh, here we go. I overheard one woman say “You are so tan, you must play outside a lot.” Anya responded “Not really, this is my natural skin color.” OMG, she did NOT just say that.

It’s not that I really mind that people tell her she’s gorgeous – or any of my kids for that matter. I mean, they are cute, but that’s beside the point.

I don’t want Anya to think that being pretty is an accomplishment. “There, I did it. I was born. I played the genetic lottery and did quite well. So now I’m going to ride that wave until someone marries me for my looks and then when I lose my looks he’ll divorce me and I’ll be alone and only then (when it’s too late) will I realize that maybe I had something else to offer besides good looks.” Seems a little farfetched, eh? Well, this is how moms think.

I know. I know. At her age, it’s a little unrealistic for me to expect people to say things that may boost her confidence in other areas. I mean, if you don’t know anything about someone, it’s difficult to compliment them on anything past the cover of the book. So, for now, I (and, of course, Donnie) will continue to comment on her work ethic, creativity, etc…, rather than say, how well her molecules are formed.

2 thoughts on “Don’t call my daughter beautiful

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