From the moment I learned about motherhood, I felt an undeniable pull toward raising a son. While I recognize that science dictates a 50/50 chance for any baby’s gender, I was convinced that my path was meant to include a little boy. My heart whispered to me that I was destined to be a boy mom, ready to embrace all the chaos that came with it—snips, snails, and puppy dog tails, as the saying goes.
Perhaps it was my fervent desire for a son that somehow influenced the universe, or maybe it was just sheer luck that led to my pregnancy. Regardless, after two exhilarating years navigating the whirlwind of motherhood, I’ve come to a firm conclusion: I never want to have a daughter. And I’m not shy about it. A daughter is simply not in my plans.
Now, don’t misunderstand me—raising a boy is no walk in the park. My son, bless his heart, is a delightful handful. But even with his constant need for love and affection, his boundless energy, and those hilarious moments of mischief, I still feel that boys are, overall, easier to raise. Many might disagree, but I firmly stand by my preference for having a boy.
Here’s the hard truth: my son has already won the gender lottery. As a boy, his life will likely be more straightforward than it would be for a girl. I won’t have to worry about him in the same way I would worry for a daughter.
Many of my friends have daughters, and the struggles they face start from day one. The moment someone announces they’re expecting a girl, the onslaught of pink, frilly outfits begins, marking the beginning of a never-ending competition among parents for the “cutest” look. Meanwhile, my son seems to thrive in his natural state, often running around nearly naked, and somehow that’s perfectly acceptable.
The crux of my hesitation about having a daughter stems from not wanting to confine her to societal expectations and stereotypes. I would never want to pierce her ears just to affirm her femininity, nor define her by her looks. The reality is that, regardless of her talents or aspirations, her appearance will eventually overshadow her achievements in the eyes of others.
As she grows, I would dread the inevitable moment when her physical changes draw unwanted attention and scrutiny, turning her body into a spectacle rather than a source of pride. How do you teach a daughter that her worth is not dictated by her appearance, especially when society sets such a narrow standard for beauty?
I would have to prepare her for a world where she might have to work harder than her male counterparts to be seen as equals. I would need to explain that her emotions might be dismissed as weaknesses and that she may face criticism for simply being a woman. The glass ceiling that looms above her isn’t just a metaphor; it’s a barrier to her dreams and ambitions.
I often think about how I might fare as a mother to a daughter. Would I be able to shield her from the burdens that come with womanhood? Imagine a world where girls are taught to appreciate their bodies and to recognize their intrinsic value beyond societal norms. Imagine if we raised them to be leaders, to admire powerful women like Ronda Rousey, Malala Yousafzai, and Jaha Dukureh, rather than focusing solely on superficial traits.
Our daughters deserve more than to be judged by their appearances. They should be free to chase their dreams without the constraints of societal expectations. They should be empowered to love who they choose and to break through any barriers they encounter.
For now, I cherish my son and will support him in all his life’s challenges, encouraging respect and admiration for women as equals. If the day comes when I do have a daughter, I hope to be ready to help her navigate this complex world, advocating for the change we so desperately need.
Our daughters deserve that change.
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In summary, while I love my son and am grateful for him, the societal pressures and challenges that daughters face deeply concern me. I want a world where young girls can thrive without being defined by their looks or gender roles.
