Bully

I am feeling a bit of hesitation posting today. You see, the things I'm posting are coming from my daily journal and since I usually write at the end of the day, they tend to be reflective...and consequently I may sound a little down or critical of myself. My life is really quite happy and generally care free...but it doesn't come across so much in these entries. This week's theme seems to be about self improvement. Maybe next week will be a bit more comedic...

I am not a girly-girl, in fact, I believe I am missing the gene for accessorizing which makes me somewhat of an anomaly among women. I can’t buy shoes or purses to save my life. People will tell me, “Just buy whatever you like…” Problem with that is that I have no idea what I like.

One day I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined and because I don’t know how to accessorize, I didn’t waste much time tying ribbons in her hair or placing elastic headbands just so. I let her be wild and unruly a significant portion of the time.

Now that she’s growing up…that’s all she wants to be, wild and unruly. One day she was given the world’s cutest haircut. It looked fabulous on her and was even mimicked among her friends. But she could hardly wait until it would grow out long again. She tells me she wants ponytails and braids; that she’ll let me “do” her hair. But the truth is, she wants nothing more than the untrained craziness she has spent the last six years with.

Our typical morning goes like this:

“Ava, we need to fix your hair. It’s looking pretty crazy.”
“But mom, I don’t want to do my hair. I want it down.”
“Ava, you look scruffy. It needs to be fixed. You’re not going to school (or church) looking like that.”

The fight goes on for much longer…but I want to get to the point. Let’s re-read the above sentence:

“Ava, you look scruffy.”

Notice the highlighted text? What kind of mom demeans her daughter for her looks?

This one, I’m afraid.

Now, in my defense, I believe my daughter is beautiful even amidst all the bedhead and snarls. I know she is beautiful on the inside which is infinitely more important…but what does Ava hear?

Mom thinks I’m not good enough.
Mom thinks I’m not pretty.

I know that there is nothing wrong with teaching my daughter womanly ways, hygiene and upkeep. But there are so many better ways to go about this. What about a loving suggestion that the hairband we bought the other day would look nice with the blue shirt she is wearing? See, far less scarring.

It always amazes me what we do to each other without intention and without realization. I’m a huge culprit in so many ways but I am deeply grateful for a conversation today that made me think about my actions and words from a different perspective.

My name is Rebecca, and I am a “recovering” bully.