I was talking with another mama today about our kids (shocker, I know), about who we hope they’ll be one day… and I felt Glennon Doyle’s words in the back of my head as I shared the story of the pretty dresses hanging in Alli’s closet that she refuses to wear.
I shared that I had adorable dresses I had bought for our daughter, that made her cry and scream in refusal. My favorite was a light blue and white pinstriped sleeveless, purchased for her second birthday photoshoot. I had set up sunflowers and balloons, and knew if I could just get her to sit for less than 5 minutes, I could permanently freeze the time in place, and remember that moment for years to come. However, when I brought the dress down with coordinating outfits for her brothers (incase the stars aligned and they all decided to pose), she was beyond distraught that it was she who had to wear the dress.
I look back and ask myself- why did I not just give her the white polo and navy shorts like she asked?
What would it really have harmed?
I had this picture of capturing our precious girl “while she would still let me dress her” and got caught up in what I thought it needed to look like, instead of just letting our Alli be Alli- the truest form of what she wanted to be at age 2 in that moment in time.
“Until they tell me otherwise…” is the way Doyle phrased it, when sharing with her audience in her memoir, “Untamed”, that she is raising two daughters and a son.
Until they tell me otherwise…
What an AMAZING way to start the description of one’s children.
As they are little, and two of them still finding their words, there is still so much self-discovery for them, that I feel as if this journey has yet to be defined. For Alex, the fact that she has no interest in dresses is merely a piece of it, not a dictation of what’s ahead. She also loves all things creative like music and arts and crafts, and her favorite thing in this worlds is a pink and white giraffe security blanket that we own 4 of incase one gets ruined.
Growing up scared to live my truth, one of the most important lessons I hope we teach our children is that no one else can be you. Plain and simple. Whoever it is you wish to be will be fully supported by us. No exceptions or expectations otherwise.
Where some children know by the time they are out of diapers, I did not know what my truth was until college. Partly, in fairness, because I never allowed myself to really consider it. I knew I was different. I knew I was scared. I knew I was not happy. I knew I felt unsafe to be true to myself. I battled multiple eating disorders, and struggled with self-harm, because I felt so trapped inside a body which I did not feel safe that I didn’t know how to breath, let alone really be just me.
I share this because, as someone who has grown older, wiser, and able to own the shame in those darker days, I can tell you what it feels like as a child to just simply not know - having not felt safe enough to explore what the answers may be, let alone ask the question.
In a day and age where our society is more accepting, but yet, still discriminatory… where people hold no expectations outside authenticity, but others require you to fit in their uncomfortable box… where some can celebrate the rainbows and uniqueness of every human being, and others still see those colors to mean less… it’s crucial that we continue to change hearts and minds by sharing our story, and it must start with our children.
While on the playground today, I heard a child say to my son that he shouldn’t be wearing pink crocks, because they were for girls. He said, “I like them”, and turned and walked away from him. I could not have been more proud.
It’s ok to dream about the potential somebody’s your children will be one day… but it’s truly important to make them feel comfortable and safe enough to simply be them, whatever discoveries they make along the way.
Until they tell us otherwise, we are raising two boys and one girl; each unique and incredible in their own way, their outcomes still yet to be defined, but so wonderfully open for possibility.
XO