My daughter, Lily, is in 7th grade at a cozy private school where she’s known her classmates since kindergarten. While they don’t all hang out like best buddies, the bullying is more discreet—think of it as the whispers behind the curtain rather than outright taunts.
At the start of the school year, Lily began sharing snippets of conversations that echoed through her classroom, particularly among the girls. The remarks often sound like this:
- “Why those leggings?”
- “What’s with your hair? Just, no.”
- “Is that a smell? Don’t you use deodorant? Gross.”
These comments, delivered in a snarky tone and well within earshot of others, pop up in classrooms before the bell rings, in hallways between classes, and in lunch clusters. Being publicly critiqued on personal choices is tough enough, but what truly saddens me is that Lily considers some of these girls her friends.
This raises an important question: Do our girls truly understand the essence of friendship?
I remember when Lily was younger, and I supervised her playdates. When arguments arose over toys, I guided the girls on taking turns. If unkind words slipped out, we had heart-to-heart chats about feelings and how to express ourselves kindly. After a couple of hours of fun and snacks, they would hug goodbye, blissfully unaware of any drama. So simple, right?
Now, however, Lily and her friends don’t have playdates; they “hang out.” They request rides to Starbucks, retreat to her bedroom filled with giggles, and connect through Instagram, Snapchat, and texts filled with emojis and acronyms. As a parent, I find myself on the sidelines—available but often ignored. The chance to help her navigate these complex social dynamics has dwindled, yet this is when she needs guidance the most.
Middle school brings a whirlwind of changes and pressures for our daughters: breakouts, crushes, school dances, FOMO, and more. It’s a lot to juggle! At home, Lily receives love and support along with structure, but she increasingly turns to her peers for guidance as she shapes her identity. When I hear about the lack of compassion among her classmates, it becomes clear that it’s time for us to re-engage in their social lives—even if it feels awkward or unwelcome.
Teaching our girls to avoid bullying and to speak up against unkindness is crucial, but we must go further. We need to instill in them the importance of lifting each other up daily. A true friend supports rather than succumbs to jealousy, encourages with kindness, and privately addresses any embarrassing moments instead of calling someone out publicly. This friendship should inspire rather than diminish confidence, embrace differences, and celebrate creativity. Our daughters deserve friendships rooted in compassion, not judgment.
While this behavior might be common for their age, it doesn’t make it acceptable. I know Lily has had her moments of carelessness too, and I don’t expect her to get along with everyone. The key lesson I want her to grasp is the importance of being a good friend, recognizing true friendship in others, and steering clear of those who might undermine her self-worth.
There’s no need for girls to tear each other down; the world has enough critics. Instead, let’s encourage them to be each other’s biggest supporters, to cherish the power of friendship, and to lead with compassion.
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In conclusion, let’s take the time to teach our girls about the true meaning of friendship—one filled with kindness and respect.