My wonderfully bright, kind, and sensitive daughter was nestled in her cozy personalized fleece blanket, the hand-knit warmth wrapping her like a hug. As I watched her, I thought, “She is so cherished.” Bedtime was our sacred ritual—a peaceful escape from her two siblings, schoolwork, and the chaos of daily life. She would often ask, “Can I tell you something before we sleep?” After reading together, we sometimes played a game of “Would you rather?” or flipped through a magazine, picking out our favorites. There was something so comforting about lying in her bed together, like two best friends sharing secrets during a slumber party—revealing our dreams, fears, regrets, and giggling until we snorted.
One night, just before she drifted off, she said, “Mommy, sometimes I ask if I’m fat just to hear you say I’m so skinny.” I was taken aback and responded, “Why on earth would you want to hear that?” “Oh, it just feels nice,” she replied. My heart sank as her words hit me like a tidal wave.
Inside, I was screaming, “You’re only seven!” “I’ve worked so hard to avoid using fat or skinny to describe how you or anyone looks.” “I focus on your creativity, kindness, and the amazing things your strong, healthy body can do.” “You should be thinking about popsicles and playgrounds, not weight!”
It felt like a door of innocence I desperately wanted to keep open had slammed shut, and I felt robbed of that joy. Out loud, I reiterated my core messages about her adventurous spirit, inner beauty, and kindness. I followed my own rules: steer clear of labels, shift the conversation towards positive character traits, and eliminate any rewards tied to appearance.
But as I left her room that night, something felt different. Despite my best intentions to highlight her inner qualities and push back against those superficial ideals, my vibrant daughter still craved validation about her looks—especially the unrealistic, thin standards society often pushes.
As I reflected, it hit me: I was the one who needed to change. I’ve always struggled to accept compliments about my appearance. Since becoming a mom to my daughters (the other one is four), I’ve realized that I want to show them how to graciously receive praise for their looks or outfits. Yet, my instinct has always been to downplay any admiration directed my way. My daughter has definitely picked up on my insincerity, likely mirroring my insecurities.
When someone admires her look, I often redirect the conversation to her character, jumping in before she has a chance to embrace the compliment. I essentially erase the flattery before it can settle in, which leaves a lingering stain of doubt. My typical response when someone comments on my kids’ cuteness? “Well, I think so, but I’m obligated to,” followed by a self-mocking chuckle.
Despite my well-meaning plans to raise a humble, confident daughter, I’ve unintentionally caused her to question whether the person who should appreciate her beauty—the one who loves her most—truly notices it. Perhaps that’s why she seeks my approval. Who can blame her? Sometimes, a girl just wants to feel beautiful and know that the important people in her life recognize both her inner and outer beauty.
It might be time to accept that beauty isn’t a bad word. My daughter and I often find joy in the beauty of nature, art, and the people around us, celebrating all kinds of beauty with applause for friends, family, and even strangers. Maybe we can talk about beauty more openly, helping her develop her own definition of it. Exploring questions like, “Can something awkward or unique be beautiful?” or tying beauty to function—like appreciating a turtle’s shell as beautiful because it serves as its home—could open up a more comfortable dialogue about this topic.
For now, I’m going to make a conscious effort to compliment her appearance as much as I do her other strengths. Before society’s shallow standards take root, I want her to hear about the beauty in her toothless grin that highlights her adorable freckles. While my opinion matters to her now, I hope she learns that it’s not the most important one. I want to guide her towards recognizing her own worth, nurturing her to find friends who uplift her, appreciate her beauty, and celebrate her in every circumstance.
Maybe, just maybe, we can both learn to receive compliments better. After all, I’m a mom who wants to reach into the chaotic world around us and lift my girl above the noise, just like snagging a plush toy from one of those claw machines at a dingy arcade.
For more on navigating the journey of motherhood, check out our other post about the home insemination kit. And if you’re interested in at-home insemination methods, Make A Mom is a great resource. Additionally, Mount Sinai offers excellent support for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, this article reflects on the importance of discussing beauty in a positive light, recognizing the need to validate our children’s appearance alongside their inner qualities, and fostering an environment where beauty is embraced rather than shunned.