On Being a Girl

When I'm feeling like I need a little attention, there's a story I like to tell my husband to elicit the level of pity and appreciation that I'm seeking. I like to tell him about how, when I was in 6th grade, we participated in a school dance (bad idea #1). But instead of causing any sort of problems once we were in the gymnasium, the teachers handed out our dance cards and set us free to get them signed (bad idea #2). Of course there were girls who instantly had lines forming around them, and others of us who milled about, breaking out in the cold sweat of humiliation. After a decent amount of time, the teacher announced that those of us who had not yet filled up their dance card should gather in a specified area, where they would be matched up by the teacher (HORRID idea #3). Of course I was one of those kids. I think I blacked out after that moment because I remember little more about that experience. But I do think that the dance card day was one of the defining moments of my life, and it (obviously) wasn't a good one. I know I wasn't the ugliest girl in the class. I was extremely shy and quite tall, which is never a good combination for an elementary school dance. But I knew one thing that day: that I was the girl who would never be able to fill her dance card.

I'm not telling this story to gain sympathy (unless you're my husband). I'm hoping to explain the reason why, when the radiologist told us we were having a baby girl, I felt equal parts surprise, excitement, and anxiety. I'd been raising boys for 5 years, and knew some things by that point: their feelings did not get hurt easily, if they did, they were over it in 2 minutes, and their self-worth was not 100% dependent upon what I and everyone else in the world thought about them. Simply put, I was scared to have a girl. I know how much I was influenced (good and bad) by the people in my life. I know what it meant to have a bad hair day for school pictures, and a bad hair year for the entire 7th grade. I know what it was like to have your best friend move on to a new group and leave you alone and scared. I know what it is like to go through puberty, with its dizzying array of physical and emotional changes. I know what it's like to be a girl.

It's with this in mind that I want to address my beautiful, perfect Lila. I want her to know that she is the most amazing baby. She knows what she needs to do, and she just does it. She's not afraid. She's not intimidated. Chicken enchiladas? Bring it on. A loud vaccum? I'll crawl toward it and check it out. Some strangers talking to me in the supermarket? I'll throw a smile their way. She survives the bumps and bruises of learning to crawl and stand with a smile. She tolerates her overbearing big brothers all day long. She has pure, untainted confidence in herself and her abilities. I'm telling you, if there were a dance right now, she'd have her dance card filled first.

I pray every day that I can know how to keep her this way. To help her realize her limitless potential and keep her from being brought down by self-doubt. She is powerful. She is beautiful. She is capable of doing anything she chooses. And she has a big, mean mother to beat down anyone who stands in her way.