Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Pretty

I don't think I'll have a point to this story. No witticisms, no thoughtful observations. I will not pretend to know the answer to this mystery. (And I would love to include a picture, but my camera is broken, so I can't take any new ones right now!)




Several days ago, I made a remark to Aimee about how pretty she was, and she wrinkled up her nose and said, with a self-consiousness I remember from my own girlhood but which I had never before heard from her, "No, I'm not."




What? I was shocked and more than a little bewildered. I certainly remember always thinking of that of myself, but I also always assumed that those girls who actually WERE pretty wouldn't have any trouble believing it of themselves. I always wanted to be incredibly thin, with locks of gold and eyes of sparkling blue. If a girl had all that, what else could she want? Besides the fact that she's my daughter who would be beautiful no matter what shape or hair color, I confess I have always seen in her what I always wished for myself, and have been happy for her that it has been her lot.




Ah... so it seems this tale says at least as much about myself as it does my daughter's newly wavering self image. Still, I'm at a loss. I guess I assumed that Aimee would always possess a graceful balance of modesty and a healthy self image (i.e. realizing how beatiful she is!), because, well... because, how could she not?

2 comments:

Hannah said...

Aimee is indeed beautiful, and I'm not as biased as you. :-) It would be interesting to ask her what she considers to be pretty.

Jenny said...

Your daughter is beautiful, Anne. And you are, too. I hate how hard it is for women and girls to see their own beauty (myself included, of course).

I wonder how much longer Claire has before she starts to tell me she's fat? (which she totally isn't!) We all want to be skinnier and prettier it seems.