Like most little girls, Danger has an appreciation for makeup. She sees Mommy wear it for special events, and heck, even some of her favorite dolls and cartoon characters have perfectly painted faces. It really shouldn't have surprised me to walk in on her with makeup caked on her face. It has happened before - and will most certainly happen again. This is what I walked in on:
At my approach, she grinned apprehensively, as though she was proud of what she'd accomplished yet still needed my approval. I always try to give encouragement when I can, so I fixed a warm smile on my face in return.
Streaks of black glitter spread across her eyelids and cheeks. This should have been so easy. I could have told her she looked beautiful. After all, she thought she was doing something glamorous. Girl+Makeup=Fancy, right?
Instead, I told her that I liked how creative she was, how it was really great that she wasn't afraid to use color and try new things. I didn't want the message to be, "You look so beautiful with your makeup on." I wanted it to be, "You are awesome because you are not afraid to be yourself - bold colors outside of the typical lines and all."
She doesn't need to fit someone else's standards of beauty. She only needs to be confident in herself. And if I can help her to develop the type of body confidence that overcomes insecure peers and airbrushed models, then that is what I will try my best to do.
When did it become so hard to raise little girls?