This picture is deceptively sweet…
From this picture you might assume that I am an EXTREMELY girly girl who wished night and day for a princess-daughter to dress in frills and lace.
You could assume that…and you would be absolutely wrong.
“But….you’re wearing a tiara….” you say.
I knew that one day I would marry and have children…but I’d never really thought about the children I would one day have. They were just there, floating far off in the possibility of the future, like distant twinkling stars. As a virgin who married her first boyfriend, I didn’t have any pregnancy scares that would force me to think about babies, or boy vs. girl and which one I wanted. But whenever I thought about my future children, I always assumed they would be boys. I was used to boys, I had helped raise my younger cousins who were lovely little boys. I knew the games, the songs, how to build megazords, and play video games with the best of them.
So when I found out that my husband and I were expecting more than a few years ago, I just couldn’t WAIT to buy a pair of overalls for my soon to be Little Buddy. I was already eyeing those sweet little conductor hats and had started my Amazon Baby Registry. No joke.
Imagine my surprise when the sonogram technician told us that we were expecting at little GIRL.
What I thought: “What? I think you must have read that screen wrong.”
What I actually said: “Um…are you sure? :)”
Sonogram Technician: “Yes, it’s a girl!”
I was totally blank.
What do I do with a girl?
It’s not like I thought of myself as incredibly girly myself (I know, you see the picture, the tiara in all its sparkling glory). But I wasn’t very girly, at least not in my mind. I was an artist, a painter, I was hipstery and cool. I mean, I did secretly covet the trifecta of lace, ruffles and frills, with a dash of opulence. But I didn’t express that part of myself; maybe on some levels I was even suppressing those feelings. But when God placed this little GIRL angel in my arms (well, it was actually the midwife who placed her in my arms, after I gave birth to her warrior-style in a birthing pool..but you get what I’m saying)…something inside of me transformed once she was handed to me, a lot of somethings. And I kept changing and I’m still changing.
It’s hard to explain. After giving birth, my daughter brought out in me, what I didn’t know was there: a fierce protectiveness, a desire to give her the best of me: for me to be kinder, nicer, more mature, happier, wiser; a desire to have her clothes, her surroundings, her books, her world be better. She made me work harder, work smarter, she made me a better me.
And you know, there is nothing wrong with being girly and sparkly. There is nothing wrong with being a princess.
And here we celebrate, commiserate, and think about our princesses. Our girly, brilliant, adventurous, tree-climbing, robot-building, storytelling, picture painting, question asking, frilly-dress wearing, tiara wielding, sword-burnishing princesses. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
(Yes, Girl; I did design and make the dress she’s wearing. It’s a 14th century Italian camicia and overdress. Let me know if anyone else is into historical costuming ^_^)