to my daughter
April 29, 2014 § 5 Comments
Last Friday we paused in our leisurely habits for your daddy daughter dance. Despite the grand theme that suggested more mature expressions of glamour, I held firmly to simpler wishes. It would have been so easy to masquerade you as a young woman, but there is still so much little girl in the balance of your experience and I guard this blessing least you grow too quickly beyond the innocence of this moment.
You are young enough still to seek my counsel, but old enough to push against my authority toward independence. My direction comes masked as a suggestion easily manipulated into your choice. Each selection, from shoes to dress, were an exercise in will and an experiment in self. We danced around subjects of maturity and cost, image and independence. I created boundaries to center you in practical details while lending you freedom enough to make choices that reflect your creativity.
I see so many young girls gathered into early expectations of grandeur. Little girls hidden beneath costumes of maturity or delighting in extravagances so impractical in their excess that they unwittingly create an impossible standard. I hope that you will continue to find joy in less, even in exceptional moments of celebration.
In as much as this was an evening to share with your father, I cherished our time together in preparation. The simplicity of our dining room manicure, the faint hue of your polish little more than a suggestion as you outlined your excitement. I silently applauded your decision to leave your hair to fall comfortably rather than endeavor to confine its bulk into something severe and took care as you let me untangle the day’s knots.
As the time came to dress, I smiled at the silver ballet flats whose sparkle was reminiscent of your toddler toes hidden in ruby, red slippers; the trail of glitter highlighting your path of play. When you unraveled strings of jewelry and dismissed the weight of a corsage for the luxury of white gloves, I saw again images of little girl dress-up accessories mismatched amidst everyday attire.
Watching your walk on your father’s arm I celebrated the blend of innocence and budding maturity in the collection of your choices. Part tomboy and part princess; ever my little girl.
Love, Mom
scribblechic 
Gorgeous! I can just picture you and your daughter with the “dining room manicure.” We do it at the kitchen table. You are fortunate that your daughter will let you guide your suggestions. I am fortunate that my daughter is naturally modest and, while she hates everything I pick out, she does seek my approval for what she picks.
Love this comment, Janice. The companionable conflict of independence and approval is something I share with both my mother and my daughter.
🙂
Thank you for steering clear of anything resembling beauty contests and Toddlers & Tiaras, no matter how old your daughter is. Teaching her how to be beautiful and classy never goes out of style:).
Thanks, Kay. I like to think that genuine beauty radiates from a place of knowledge and kindness, physical and emotional well-being. Superficial expressions of beauty are poor substitutes for elegance of character.