Today while having lunch with my family, a well-meaning waiter seemed hyper-focused on getting my daughter to engage him in conversation and turning her frown upside down. She gave him a few shy half-hearted smiles because of his larger than life humor and many compliments. But this didn’t suffice, and waiter awkwardly continued. Meanwhile, he barely engaged my son in conversation who was sitting across from her and in a horrible post car nap mood.
My daughter has an ironclad straight face. It’s her natural mood and disposition. Early in our relationship, during the time I had to let go of the baby I made and and get to know the human that was growing into her own independent personhood, I was afraid for the child who didn’t hesitate to openly frown. When I would ask her what was wrong and why she seemed upset, she often responded: “sometimes I don’t feel like smiling and I don’t feel happy.”
My daughter is a thoughtful individual. Observant and empathetic. She watches. Simmers on what she observes and hours, days or weeks later, she often engages in a thoughtful conversation filled with comments or questions. She has a bright smile, a creative mind and a compassionate heart.
She’s taught me a great many things about myself and what it is to be female in our culture. Through her, I’ve learned that people are uncomfortable with girls who frown. It unsettles them, her quiet reserve, the fact that she often exercises her right to sit quietly and not put on a show. It’s who she is and sometimes, I am intimated by this fortitude and quiet strength. And I wonder how often we force girls to play a role to fit the confines of our expectations at the cost of their individuality and self-expression? And I consider how exhausting it must be for their tiny, still developing minds and personalities. (Since its exhausting for me as a grown woman.)
Food for thought:
What did you say?