Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

I've been thinking a lot about beauty and feeling beautiful. Being a mother, especially to a daughter, forces me to think about the world's view of beauty, my issues with beauty, and how both of those will affect my children.

How do I raise a child that feels beautiful without putting too much value on beauty? How do I teach my children to respect their physical self and how they present themselves in the world and yet not invest their esteem in it? I just don't know.

My daughter loves Barbies and Princesses. She talks about being beautiful. I tell her that she's beautiful. I want her to feel beautiful because I spent so many years not feeling beautiful. But she is so much more than that. I try very hard to express that her true beauty is her heart. I celebrate her intelligence and give lots of enthusiastic support to her accomplishments. And yet, I know that intentionally or not, I am imbuing her with all my issues. And issues I have.

She knows about makeup because I wear makeup. She says that she wants to wear makeup so that she will be beautiful. I tell her that she is beautiful already and doesn't need makeup. So being the firecracker that she is, she asks why then I wear it. And I have no good answer. If I tell her because I need it, that will inevitably reflect on her. If I use my age, she will then believe there is an expiration date on her beauty. I know all this, but am I willing to throw that makeup in the trash? Oh no no no!

So what to do? I honestly don't know. Like it or not, this is a world of Princesses and makeup. How do I give her enough belief in her beauty to survive those constant assaults without her believing that is the source of her value? How do I avoid passing my insecurities on like some sick inheritance? How do I raise a confident young woman who feels beautiful while also knowing her worth? These are the questions that haunt me. The conundrum that brings me to face to face with myself and one of my biggest tormentors -- the mirror. So there it is. It reminds me of the song, "At the Ballet" from Chorus Line so I thought I would share that below and ask you to share how you have navigated these vicious waters. Because I am in the water and I definitely need a life ring!

Daddy always thought that he married beneath him
That's what he said, that's what he said.
When he proposed he informed my mother
He was probably her very last chance.
And though she was twenty-two,
Though she was twenty-two,
Though she was twenty-two
She married him.
Life with my dad wasn't ever a picnic
More like a "come as you are."
When I was five I remember my mother
Dug earrings out of the car.
I knew they weren't hers, but it wasn't
Something you'd want to discuss.
He wasn't warm.
Well, not to her.
Well, not to us.
But
Everything was beautiful at the ballet.
Graceful men lift lovely girls in white.
Yes,
Everything was beautiful at the ballet,
Hey!
I was happy at the ballet.
Up a steep and very narrow stairway
To the voice like a metronome
Up a steep and very narrow stairway
It wasn't paradise.
It wasn't paradise.
It wasn't paradise.
But it was home.
Mother always said I'd be very attractive
When I grew up, when I grew up.
"Diff'rent," she said, "With a special something
And a very, very personal flair."
And though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
I hated her.
Now,
"Diff'rent" is nice, but it sure isn't pretty.
"Pretty" is what it's about.
I never met anyone who was "diff'rent"
Who couldn't figure that out.
So beautiful I'd never lived to see.
But it was clear,If not to her,
Well then to me.
That everyone is beautiful at the ballet.
Every prince has got to have his swan.
Yes,
Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.
Hey! I was pretty
At the ballet…