On Rethinking My Response

I had an interesting conversation with my almost six-year-old daughter, today. It was one of those conversations that made me pause... Not because of what she said, but because of how I responded.

As per usual, in my house, and probably in most houses with young children, the idea that one could shower and get dressed without an audience is just laughable. That being said, today, during the getting dressed phase of my morning, the youngest audience member walked in.

The conversation went like this:

Alli: "Mommy, why are boobs inappropriate?"

And here was my first pause... Why would she think that?

Me: "Uh, Alli, boobs aren't inappropriate, they're just private."

Alli: "Why are they private? All grown-up girls have them."

Me: "Yes, when girls grow up, they get boobs. And, well... boys and girls have different parts. And those parts are the ones we cover up and are private."

Second pause... Wow, I just told her that she is supposed to cover up the parts that make her different. What kind of message is that? Certainly not the one I intended to give.  

The conversation went on, definitely in sex-ed territory, that to be honest, I wasn't quite ready to have with my little girl. Let’s just say, she was asking when it was appropriate and to whom can she show her private parts... YIKES!

So... I may have not enjoyed that part of the conversation, but I at least felt like I could reasonably navigate it.

The part that had me more concerned was the response I found myself giving relative to our differences. While I don't think she should be flashing her boobs all over the place, I also don't want her to ever be ashamed of being different, in any way. My message did not match my overall worldview. And, not only do I need to rethink the way I respond to such questions in the future, but perhaps we, as a culture, also need to rethink the overall message we are giving our children about differences.

I love the things that make people different. I applaud those that consistently have the guts to embrace what others might call quirks. I wish I was more consistently brave with my own quirks.  

I want my daughter to fully accept and appreciate her differences. I want her to feel comfortable being who she is, and I want her to embrace those around her that are genuinely themselves, too. I want her to see individuality as being a good thing - to understand the importance of authenticity.

And still... I told her that we cover up the parts that make us different. This conversation made me feel like a failure as a role model of acceptance and love, a failure to be the kind of parent that I think my children should have. UGH. My own response kind of made me want to vomit. I wish I could take it back.

I can only hope that this one conversation doesn't make her rethink the way she sees herself, that she chooses to model my actions and not listen to my words (considering she does very little listening to my words these days - at least when those words are in the form of directions - my hope is actually kind of likely).

What makes us different is what makes us interesting. We learn from others when they are unlike ourselves. And, it is in those same instances, that we learn the most about ourselves. I don't want her to miss out on all that learning because she is trying to conform. I want her to know that she is smart, kind, interesting, funny, and beautiful, because she is those things... because she is like no one else - she is Alli.