As a mother of a girl, I often feel really worried about calling my daughter pretty, because you know we’ve all been told how damaging it is to compliment children on their looks, because they then begin to equate their self worth with their appearances. So every time I look at Girl, even though I think she is the most stunning creature to walk the face of the earth (and I’m being totally objective here of course), I resist the urge to smother her in kisses and say my gosh, how beautiful you look. Instead, I compliment her drawings and her math skills etc etc. I mean I’m the perfect fodder for this whole growth mindset thing. You know praise the effort and the work type thing. Lest you think I’m sexist and compliment Boy on his looks (even though, he is the most handsome creature that has ever existed and I’m being objective here of course), I also focus on his work and effort too. Ooh Boy, you worked really hard at creating that comic book, which got confiscated in class because you weren’t paying attention to the lesson. But well done for the hard work. But it got me thinking, when I was growing up, girls got complimented on how we looked all the time. We also were constantly bombarded with magazines that emphasized just how important our looks were. And so we grew up hyper aware of our appearances. We began to associate certain things with being pretty and feminine, things like getting our eyebrows threaded, arms waxed, hair straightened, nails done. You know the whole the nine yards. If any of those things weren’t done, we felt ugly. I say “we” as though I speak on behalf of every woman in the world. Of course I don’t, some women may not have any of these issues. Good for them. I envy them. Now I’ve grown up and you know my Maintenance routine is pretty minimal and I’m kind of trying to reclaim what I wear and wear my Mom jeans all the time. But there are still things that I can’t get away from. That I have been conditioned to think make me look good. Like I need to get my nails done, straighten my hair and have my hair dyed. Without those things, I just can’t function. Yes of course this is vanity and it’s shallow and my worth is not determined by those things. But to me, they lift me up. They make me feel human. When I try to think about whether I really need to get my nails done to make me feel good, the feminist in me wants me to rage against the machine and not do my nails, because what message am I sending to Girl and for that matter Boy? That all girls need to have their nails done and if your wife/girlfriend doesn’t have her nails done, then she is less than? I mean, it’s a minefield. I don’t know how to navigate against this. Is it a lifetime of conditioning that I’m fighting against? Am I strong enough? Not right now I’m not. After a year of lockdown and not getting my nails done and really resisting the urge to go to the salon the day it opened, I finally caved 3 weeks in. That day I felt so good. I was flashing my nails around left right and center. Call me shallow ok? I don’t care. I had pretty nails. And it basically caused me such joy that it radiated into the rest of my day. I crushed my workout. I made an amazing dinner. I wrote a bad ass chapter of my book. But then it also made me sad. I am so pathetic that having nail polish painted on my nails made me happy. I’m telling you, you think I’m going on about something as inane as nail polish, but for women, everything is a feminist issue. Everything is something we have to navigate and figure out. My brain can’t handle it. I’m tired. And I’m tired for Girl and Boy. They are going to have so many more things to deconstruct and figure out from all the things we are subconsciously conditioning them with. I need a nap. But first, I’m going to get a manicure.
