I’m a mom of four, three daughters, and a son. Over the years, our family has received so many comments about our children’s genders. For starters, they feel sorry for my son, the lone boy among three sisters. We’ve been told he needs some male interaction. One person even suggested we adopt one more child, and we should make sure that child is a boy to keep my son “company.”
The assumption is that my son is missing out on important masculinity lessons and experiences because he doesn’t have any brothers. I find this so odd, mostly because he is perfectly content being the sole brother. He has no issue with hopping into whatever game or activity his sisters are partaking in at any given time. He will play Calico Critters with his little sister, a game of football with his next older sister, or sit at his oldest sister’s desk and use her art supplies. He has the family he needs.
Which brings me to my daughters
Before my son was born, there were two girls born just two years and two weeks apart. One is artistic, a rule follower, and into all things outer space. She begged me to paint her bedroom construction cone orange. My other older daughter loves basketball, drumming, and anything active and messy. Her favorite childhood shirt was grass green and featured a monster screen-printed across the front. Neither of them was (or is now) stereotypically “girly”.
Before their brother arrived, I would take my daughters out and about and we would receive tons of comments. “How sweet it is to have two little girls,” they would coo. Others would lean in, asking the girls which princess was their favorite, or they'd assume they wanted the free princess stickers offered by banks and medical offices. One person even smiled and said, “I bet you have a lot of tea parties.”
I would laugh and share how much they love to wrestle, dig holes in the yard, and play with their train table
We had a large bin of costumes, and while one loved to be the pirate, the other preferred to be the chef. The princess costumes laid at the bottom of the bin, rarely used by anyone but young friend guests. (To be fair, those princess costumes are awfully itchy, and what does a princess even do? A pirate has a sword, after all.)
My girls are much older now, and we have two more children. My youngest daughter is the only one who is somewhat “girly.” Yet each of my kids are who they are. We have never pushed them to fit a mold. To me, part of the thrill of being their mom is waiting to see who they will become and allowing them try new things without the sway to fit any gender norms.
It’s bizarre to me to hear moms who crave to have a daughter, someone who, they say, they can dress up in tulle and sparkles, enroll in ballet and Girl Scouts, and play dolls with. There’s nothing wrong with having hopes and dreams for our children, but when we assume that a child of a certain sex is going to be a particular way, how is that healthy?
There’s also nothing wrong with a daughter who likes what she likes
If her preference is tiaras and dance class, great. But if she wants to join a karate class and prefers to wear blue, that’s fine too. At least, it should be.
Kids don’t exist to fulfill their parents’ dreams. If we push our children to be a certain way in order for them to feel loved and accepted, we create shame. We also miss out on watching our children blossom into their individual selves — a true atrocity.
My daughters who aren’t “girly” are no less valuable, because they have chosen to be themselves, breaking the stereotypical molds. I will continue to support my children as they figure out who they want to become, empowering them to enjoy the journey.
