When I was in high school I had three very close friends. We would link arms in the hallway, while away hours outside of school playing Marco Polo and wondering wistfully about boys we had crushes on—it was a very sweet, simple time. Before things became marred by attacks, irrational boyfriends and the inevitable growing apart that happens in those emotion fraught years, there was very little that disturbed our union. Looking back, I see four girls who found comfort in one another, confiding about struggles with siblings or parents, building each other up with the ability to see one another’s strengths.
I also see a younger version of myself who was quick to feel slighted and had a tendency toward not believing she measured up to the other girls. I’ve tried to retrace my steps to determine when it happened, or even how. What makes your internal monologue turn to a constant stream of berating—you look wrong, dance wrong, do it all wrong? My need to figure it out flirts with panic as I watch my girls go from elastic waist pants and Disney characters to accessories and whispered conversations about boys. I think I made that transition much later than my girls,I don’t have a memory of my mom ever lamenting her looks in the years before I clearly remember doubting myself. I was oblivious to movie stars and musicians. And yet, there I was, sitting in the bleachers thinking my feet were too big, my hair too unruly and my voice mannish.
I wish I could say that this blog entry was about figuring it all out, but it just isn’t. I don’t think we ever do figure it out, I think the best we can do is pace ourselves. I am matching my steps of doubt with gestures of forgiveness I haven’t had before. I am forgiving myself for not wanting to conform and wanting to conform. Not knowing what to do is not failure, it’s an opportunity to figure it out or ask for help. I look at women now and see beauty in so many shapes and sizes. When I look in the mirror it’s a bit different, for every little thing I find to celebrate, there is another thing I find to keep my self-image euphoria in check. Enter forgiveness. I am forgiving myself for, as a dear friend said tongue-in-cheek the other day, “For not being eternally 27.” I am also not beating myself up for ideas I entertain to stave off feeling low—a Sephora shopping spree or a flippy top, it’s ok to indulge.
I don’t think there is anyway I can definitively choose to parent that will protect my girls from whatever bullsh*t their heads are going to play on them. What I can do is teach them through my own actions that it’s ok to not be perfect, it’s ok to have moments when you think you are and, ultimately, that we have the ability to attack, correct, embrace or ignore the things we see and feel about ourselves.
Tagged: Confidence, daughters, forgiveness
I don’t have daughters, but I think forgiving ourselves and showing our children it’s ok not to be perfect is one of the most important parts of parenting. You? Are doing great. 🙂
You? A huge blessing in my life. Thank you!
Hey 🙂
As one of the girls who knew you just a little bit after high school, I certainly admired your strong voice. I remember sitting in class with you and how annoyed you’d get when I would start to say something, only to mumble and drift off. Whenever you spoke – and it seemed to me you spoke with such confidence – I wished I was more like YOU! 🙂
I still mumble and ramble. Every time I do, I think of you. And wish I had that strong voice. 🙂
Love you, Amanda.
Beck, you always had such wisdom and beautiful perspective in what you thought. If I was ever frustrated it was that I saw the loss to the world in your not feeling more comfortable to find your roar. Love you right back.
I don’t have daughters, either, and sometimes I think it’s easier with boys. They won’t care about the same things that preoccupy me, and their challenges will be different. But you are doing an amazing job with your girls, and by setting such a great example, you’re giving them a wonderful gift. You have such a loving heart, and that’s evident to everyone. We are always our own worst critics.
Thank you, Catherine. I think the idea of raising boys, who turn into men, who society expects to be so without fear or doubt, is every bit as scary. Thank you for the reminder about the “own worst critics” bit, so easy to forget, right?
I relate to this on many levels. First of all, I, too, have huge feet (size 12) and a mannish voice (the nun who taught music in middle school used to give me boy roles in school plays).
Also, I believe that silencing the negative internal dialogue is crucial to contentment, but struggle with how to do that, for myself and for my daughters. Do guys hear that voice, too?
And I. too, have no answers. My teenage daughter has always been so confident and authentically herself, but I see the doubt creeping in whenever I take her shopping for new clothes. It makes me sad that I couldn’t stop it. All I can do is let her know that I understand, that she’s not alone, that all girls/women have things that they dislike about their appearances, about themselves, that there are no perfect people… and that all people are perfect.
Thanks for writing this post and putting words to what so many of us feel.
I am intimately familiar with that vague panic you cite, as I watch my daughter wade into the same waters. I don’t have any answers at all, but it’s worth a lot to feel companionship! So, thank you. xox
Up there, Shannon asked, “Do guys hear that voice, too?”
Every day.
Thanks, Amanda, for the reminder. Forgiveness is tricky. We do it, and then often need to do it again. I’ve always believed that forgiveness is something given, and so one can’t necessarily forgive themselves. If I’ve made mistakes and need forgiven, then I must look elsewhere. I must ask for forgiveness.
But I’m becoming not so sure anymore. It’s, as I said, tricky. But contentment and hope and learning to live with our shortcomings is possible . . .
This. This is perfect. And I’m practicing not being perfect every day. I’m in recovery. xo
What a beautifully expressed quandary. I think we all need to concentrate more on the positives we each have rather than the negatives we perceive. If you cannot honestly list at least 3 truly positive characteristics that you possess and know others would agree to – then you aren’t being honest with yourself, so why believe the hurtful criticism of someone who isn’t being honest?
So often it is the imperfections that make a person truly beautiful, and if we cannot embrace the good things in ourselves, can we ever do so in others?
I don’t visit your blog often, but am glad I did today.
As I watch those gray hairs take over, I need to remember forgiveness, too -for all my flaws!
You? Always beautiful, strong and solid. That’s what your girls will see and learn and become. They are lucky to have such a role model!
I often think of Marco polo….
I miss you, Kristie. Hope you are ok.
Love this because it is so true. I have always had an internal struggle with my confidence and I wish there was some way to help my daughters avoid it all but the best we can do is support them through it and try to show them by example, which isn’t always easy.
I recently discovered your blog and it’s posts like this one that keep me coming back. I think we all struggle with confidence on some level. Some of us more than others. And I think you’re absolutely spot-on that it’s about showing our daughters that we’re okay with our imperfections, we’re okay being us.
I have a daughter and this topic is one that weighs heavily on my mind AND SHE’S ONLY THREE? I believe there is nothing like becoming a mother to a daughter that brings to life every painful, formative memory of being an adolescent girl. I have spent more hours than necessary trying to figure out where I went wrong in those early years just so I can prevent my daughter from making the same mistakes. I wrote this awhile back. It really does permeate my thoughts and writing. I guess you could say it’s one of my “themes.” http://shannonlell.com/2012/05/22/the-fabric-of-our-lives/