Girly girl


                I must make a confession. I am not a girly girl. I do not recall the last time I bought a pair of shoes that were not 5T in size. The only impetus for me buying clothes in the last four years was gestation, and then it was reluctant and largely over the internet. I purchase makeup at the local Walgreen, not at the Clinique counter, and I feel that the only purpose of it is to disguise blemishes, not for enhancement.

                I should have known something was strange about my two-year old at eighteen months of age. I was putting an outfit on her one day and she starts crying uncontrollably. I thought maybe there was a tag left in it that pinched her or something, so I gasp, “What’s wrong Z?”

                “Thath’s UGLY!” she wailed.

                Ok, maybe I didn’t hear her correctly, after all, she is only eighteen months old at this point, and why should she care what she wears, so I pick out another outfit, and she continues to wail.

                “What’s wrong baby?” I am concerned.

                “Thath’s UGLY too!” she responds with her chubby thumb thrust into her angry, pouting mouth.

                I decide to conduct a scientific experiment and start pulling outfits out of the closet. I pull out a variety from the mundane to the lacy and indulgent.

                I am met with multiple, “Thath’s Ugly” until I hold up a frilly confection, and am met with a wide-eyed, excited, “Oooooh, Thath’s cute!”  

                How does this kid know that “Thath’s cute” and the “Thath’s ugly? She doesn’t even have access to television and only reads books that we approve. Where did she get this?

                Fast forward about six months to last Sunday while trying to get her ready for church.   She is arguing that it is her constitutional right to go to church in a pink tutu and a diaper and nothing else.  I explain patiently that this will simply not be permitted. She pouts and whines and is presented with an array of other options that I deem “acceptable”. Finally she condescends to wear a particularly ostentatious dress that is silk, bedazzled with pink jewels, with a full trailing tutu covered in glitter. As a result, we all, including the baby end up covered in glitter and looking like a day-time hookers at Sunday service.

                Earlier this week, her father sends me a picture with her in a layered tutu, and a day-glow, unmatched top wearing high-heeled shoes and a bright orange head-band in her hair. There is no question in my mind that she would have happily left the house proudly and greeted everyone in sight wearing this contraption.

                I watch her and how she is so confident, and knows that she is beautiful. I don’t remember the last time I felt that way. I hope she always feels this way about herself and I ache inside because I know that she wont. I know that over time small scars will form on her precious heart as some mean girl tells her that her clothes are not expensive enough or are not in style.   I know that she will lose this lovely confidence when the boy she likes asks her prettier friend out. I know that no matter how smart and astonishing she is, that the media will eventually convince her that her body is wrong and she is not enough. I hope that she can hold on to this feeling of striking invincibility as long as possible, and that she is able to find her worth in her exquisite mind and God’s love for her and not in her attire, or how gorgeous she is. But I must admit, she is pretty fabulous and she can rock a pink cow girl hat.




  1. She is gorgeous and all girlie girl. She is blessed to have such an intuitive mother who is guiding her spiritually and already preparing to guard her against the world as long as possible.

  2. Isn’t is amazing to see the self confidence they possess. My daughter puts on a dress and just knows she is a princess through and through. How I hope they will never lose this assurance!

  3. This is the sweetest story of the love of a good mother for her child. And she is you all over. In looks, in knowing what she wants, in every way. You have done so well, Kellie. And I am very proud of the parents you two have become. You will have her prepared well to handle the mean girls, the hurtful boys and all that is ahead of her.

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