Being a mother of two boys, we had decided it was best to stop after two. We could not have been more wrong. Despite appropriate precautions, I woke up one morning unable to eat breakfast.
I can still remember my OBGYN’s personal call, “You are definitely pregnant.” I was happy, as stopping at two was a compromise. I began convincing myself that this baby was a boy.
I told myself things like, “You are a boy mom. You love being a boy mom. Now, you will have three boys to look at for you when you are old”.
I dared not to consider the possibility of a girl, as I had imagined a girl in previous pregnancies. I loved, loved being a boy mom, but there was this nagging in my heart for a little girl.
That ultrasound was the only one I cried. I was fully convinced that we were going to see the little marker of a boy.
But the technician asked, “You said you have two boys at home already, right?……. “Well, get ready mama because this one is a little girl”.
I asked her to check and even check a third time. When it finally sunk in, tears ran down my face. From that moment on, all I could do was think about meeting and raising this little girl.
In my personal and professional life, as a mental health therapist, I have seen the unimaginable emotional wounds carried by women, directly correlated with their gender. With these life experiences, I am extraordinarily committed to empowering women and girls. But could I do this for my own daughter?
I was so excited, pressing gold paint roses onto her nursery walls and picking out trendy baby girl clothes; but in the back of my mind, I was also scared about raising a little girl in this world.
I wanted to teach her to have her own dreams and make sure that she could take care of herself if she needed to. She needs to put herself first, but always be willing to help others. I wanted her to know that all paths are right, when you are being true to yourself. And perhaps most importantly, I wanted her to know that being a girl was never a reason to do or not do something; and that being a girl does not mean she ever has to accept unacceptable behavior or unfairness.
I incessantly pondered, “but how can I teach her things that I only learned from experience?”
Now my daughter, Drew, is five years old. She is so much like me in more ways than I could even list. When she asserts her strong opinions or hides a, didn’t-get-my-way pout, all I can do, is smile and remind myself that in many ways I am raising the child version of me; A point that is both breathtaking and frustrating.
I am learning to love all the things I was taught not to love about myself, by accepting those things in her. She is not submissive, as I was taught a woman should be most of the time. I praise her when she stands up for herself. She has no desire for her appearance to be “socially acceptable”. I allow her at times to wear winter boots with a spring dress or self-applied green eye shadow.
She is messy, clumsy, and often has food on her face or shirt. Things that mortified me about myself for so long. I teach her to laugh at herself, to not take herself so seriously, and validate these unique parts of ourselves. I talk to her consistently about how wonderful it is to be a girl; and if anyone says otherwise, just prove them wrong.
She holds her own without wavering with her two older brothers. Once in school, I was talked to about her strong assertion of boundaries with classmates.
I listened respectfully, but to myself thought, “oh thank God, because she is going to need that.”
My beautiful, stubborn five-year-old girl is a pageant queen with American Royal Beauties and a baseball player. She threw the first pitch out for our local semi-pro team, while wearing her pageant tiara and sash.
She loves dresses, pink, glitter, makeup, singing in the mirror, and home photo shoots. She also loves digging in the landscaping, Fortnite, building, rough games of tag, and being as messy as possible. When she grows up, she wants to be a doctor, a gardener, and a mom.
When she asked me if she could do this, “well, yes of course if that is what you want to do”.
We spend a lot of time doing the things we like to do the way we like to do them. It’s amazing to me, because somehow, we have a relationship that empowers each other’s feminine power.
Just the other day, as I was putting on some makeup, Drew said to me, “well you do not need makeup or anything, because you are so pretty already”.
At that moment, I felt a little less scared and more hopeful that she may be more empowered than me; just as my mother taught me to be more empowered than her. We must relentlessly empower our daughters at home, so they can live safely without limits out there. Empowered daughters will better our world in more ways than we can imagine.
“Here’s to strong women! May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.” – Unknown
-Leslie A. Hagedorn
Some pictures of Leslie Hagedorn with her daughter Drew Hagedorn!
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