My daughters couldn’t be more different from one another.
My six-year-old is a delicate little thing, a slender sprite with frizzy hair and knobby knees. Yet, beneath her petite exterior lies an undeniable strength. She radiates an inner fire that keeps her buoyant, as if no amount of gust could ever knock her down.
In contrast, my three-year-old is a wonderfully plump child, nearly as tall as her sister. Her innocent, baby-like demeanor adds a layer of sensitivity that belies her size. She has the cherubic face of a toddler, complete with an emotional maturity to match. Just as quickly as she bursts into laughter, she can dissolve into tears at the slightest frown directed her way.
Physically, they are distinct; my oldest daughter boasts blonde hair and icy blue eyes, while my youngest, like me, has rich brown hair and dark eyes. Their resemblance to my husband and me is unmistakable. (In a rare moment of kindness, my mother-in-law has pointed out that my older daughter inherited her petite stature, while my younger one, with her adorable chubby cheeks, clearly resembles me. Oh, the treasures of family dynamics.) It often leaves strangers confused about whether they are indeed sisters. Once, someone even had the audacity to ask if they had the same parents! I was so taken aback that all I could muster was a shocked “yes.” A friend suggested I reply with, “as far as my husband knows (wink)” next time it happens.
These girls are a fascinating study of contrasts, both physically and emotionally. They share one common passion, which I’ve struggled to embrace: princesses. Princess-themed movies, dolls, and clothes seem to hold an irresistible allure for them.
Having attended an all-girls school from sixth to twelfth grade, I am forever grateful to my parents for the sacrifices they made to provide me with that experience. It was a nurturing environment, rich in tradition and intellectual rigor. My teachers were exceptional, particularly one English teacher who passionately illustrated how women have often been marginalized throughout history. She was particularly critical of the “princess” culture, lamenting that it teaches young girls that their greatest aspirations revolve around pretty dresses and finding a prince. We are capable of so much more, she insisted.
Fast forward two decades, and here I am, surrounded by a mountain of princess paraphernalia. I’ve ensured my girls have a variety of other toys, from plastic dinosaurs to legos, but they always gravitate back to the princesses. I know I could simply withhold those toys, but I firmly believe that the allure of the forbidden makes them even more enticing. (Books, however, are a different matter; they enjoy a wide range of literature and rarely request Disney Princess books, much to my relief.)
When my daughters opt for a princess toy over something more empowering, I can’t help but hear my high school English teacher’s voice echoing in my head: “What are we teaching our future women?” Guilt creeps in, and I worry that I might be letting down all those women who fought tirelessly for my rights. How can I ensure my daughters grow up strong and independent? How can I instill in them a sense of girl power? I encourage them to face their fears and show them that women can solve problems on their own. With their father often away for work, they know that if something needs fixing, mom steps in. I strive to teach them to be both loving and resilient. But is that enough?
Not too long ago, while at the park, my daughters were playing in the sandbox when an older boy approached my three-year-old and snatched her shovel without a word. She immediately burst into tears as he walked away with it. My six-year-old, looking like the tiniest pixie, stood up and approached him. I held my breath, silently urging her not to whine or plead. But I also didn’t want her to yell or shove. To my surprise, she stood next to the boy and gave him the iciest glare I’ve ever witnessed. They locked eyes, and in an unexpected turn of events, he handed her the shovel. The best part? She thanked him politely. She handled the situation with strength, grace, and composure.
My older daughter returned the shovel to her little sister, and they resumed their play, digging happily in the sand, oblivious to the world around them. The dirt would have surely pleased my English teacher, but the girl power my daughter exhibited in defending her sister would have made her proud.
So go ahead, girls, indulge in your princess toys if that’s what you feel like doing today. As long as you can demonstrate strength when it counts and stand up for what’s right, you’re going to be just fine.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the contrasting personalities of the author’s two daughters, emphasizing the importance of strength, individuality, and the potential challenges of societal expectations. Despite her own reservations about the princess culture, the author finds reassurance in her daughter’s ability to stand up for her sister, showcasing that true empowerment comes in many forms.
Keyphrase: Empowered Daughters
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