Why Can't You Be Like...

My daughter won't let me brush her hair. At all. Ever. And she looks like Mowgli from The Jungle Book.

So we get to school the other day, with her unbrushed hair, and her teacher tries to brush it, achieving the same results as I always do: nuthin.

She then proceeds to bring other girls in the class over to my daughter so she can see their pretty, perfect hair.

Now, this needs some context. This was the day of the kids' International Assembly at school. They got to dress up in traditional clothes from their culture/country of origin. My daughter was wearing her galabeyah from Egypt (something like this) with brown sandals.

The teacher was telling kids to take their T-Shirts off from under their clothes so it wouldn't look too casual. She had one girl remove her glasses, for heaven's sake. She clearly wanted everything to look just right.

I can't blame her, but I also wanted to laugh and remind her that these were first graders. Let the girl wear her glasses. Let that boy keep his T-shirt on.

Now, when it came to my daughter, I was torn. I had been trying to get her to brush her day all morning, too. I wanted her to look "nice" and put-together. I tried to use language promoting self respect rather than comparisons and advice to conform to culturally-defined standards of beauty. But this teacher flat out told Esther to compare herself to all the other girls, who also had make up on.

So my question is: How do we help our kids feel good about themselves without setting them up for a life of "If only I looked like..."? Should I force my daughter to brush her hair if she really, REALLY doesn't want to? Should I wait and see if the social pressure at school gives her a push in the direction of a neater appearance? Should I tell them all to stuff it?

Opinions, please. And check this out for a somewhat enlightening/somewhat pathetic discussion about why supermodels don't brush their hair. :)

For Women Only

I'm serious. If you are a man and you are still reading this, consider yourself warned.

I had to go into Victoria's Secret the other day for some bridal shower gifts. I came out feeling totally deflated. I almost mean that literally. The Victoria's Secret models, whose boobies were everywhere I turned, seemed to be taunting me with their full curves. I looked around the store a bit for myself, but quickly realized (as I knew before I walked in) that I couldn't fill out anything hanging on their racks. (Pun intended).

So naturally I have been feeling a little...well, little. I feel like I don't have the basic equipment required for playing on the women's team, so to speak. I suddenly can't find clothes that make me feel good about my shape. I don't want to walk around in a padded bra, advertising something I don't actually carry in stock. (Yes, I think it counts as advertising even when it's just your husband looking.) But I do want to feel feminine.

Today I found hope! A beautiful blog called "Small Bust, Big Heart". I'm so thrilled to find this, because the biggest problem I have is feeling like I'm the only woman who is trapped in a 12-year-old's body. Now I see that I may actually be part of a larger subgroup than I thought. Go check it out--even if you don't have a small bust, it's nice to recognize and celebrate women of all different shapes and sizes. The blog had links to online stores for small-busted women, like Little Women. Now I can choose the places I shop, places that reflect my needs and my reality. Just browsing the styles online is so fun, because the models look like me!

This all goes to show that self-image is largely contextual. I mean, we all need to build a foundation of self-love in which we recognize our God-given beauty and accept that it is more than enough. But we also need to consciously avoid situations where we know we will represent a counter-image or counter-message if we are not standing solidly on that foundation yet. I know I'm not in a place where I can comfortably go into a Victoria's Secret store and feel beautiful. But I hope to get there someday once I have exposed myself to more realistic images of beauty and come to accept, love and flaunt my own shape. After all, if Audrey Hepburn could remain one of the icons of beauty with her distinctly un-Victoria's Secret-like chest, then maybe I can learn to appreciate my own little "chiquitas" too!