Please Don't Tell My Daughter How Beautiful She Is

She already knows.

Much of our identities are based on what we're told early and often. If you hear something over and over, it's hard not to start believing it and owning it. 

For such a young impressionable one in our house, the repeated praise is about her physical beauty.

"Your skin's so flawless."

"Your nails are awesome!"

"You're so pretty!"

Last night, at a homeless ministry, a very well-meaning regular adult volunteer said these things to Angie:

"Your hair is SO beautiful. Like stunningly gorgeous! Do people just touch it all day long? You know, you could be a hair model!" 

The whole time I'm subtly making this gesture:

She knows she could be a hair model, someone needs to tell her she could be an astronaut if she applied herself!

Believe me, I don't think our friends, and random strangers, intend any harm with their gushing compliments of our 12 year-old's appearance. It seems like a good idea to tell someone when you have nice things to say, as we so often find ourselves with a mind full of the alternative. But maybe, in the long run, it's not really doing her a favor.

Maybe in the long run she's building her identity, brick by brick, compliment by compliment, around her beauty, a monument that will always be difficult to upkeep and will eventually come crashing down.  

  

What if, for instance, in the far off distant future, she ages, and her face becomes "flawed" with the lines and spots she sees on my skin and already worries about? Or what if she gets large and unwieldy in pregnancy, swollen in places she did not know could swell? Where will her self-worth come from then, if its foundation is laid on such shaky ground as her fleeting looks?

If she considers her form to be her best quality, because so many have told her it is so, what will she use when she needs or wants something, her brains or her body?

And who will she look to for friends and a future mate, people who appreciate her wit and personality, or men and women who see her for what's on the outside, because that's where her confidence lies?

So, for those of you who want to lift up our vulnerable tween in such a pivotal time of identity construction, thank you. But instead of praising her silky locks, especially after she's spent hours idolizing ditzy girls on Youtube to find the latest look and wasted nearly a can of hairspray to perfect the style, here are some suggestions for how to encourage her:

When you see her do something kind, say, "Angie, that was so sweet."

If sometime she gives more than was required, tell her, "That was very generous!" 

If you notice her make a good choice, confirm, "That was a wise decision."

When you see her work something out for herself, let her overhear you mention she used great problem solving skills.

And by all means, if you happen to catch her in a Christ-like moment, don't hesitate to let her know, "I think that's what Jesus would have done."

Then, when she's struggling for hours with difficult homework assignments, or wrestling through a stressful situation with peers, she'll have more to rest on than her voluminous mane of soft hair. Maybe she'll remember that she can be kind and giving, with a wonderful mind, and a trust-worthy Savior living inside of her to help her in tough times. Maybe she'll find her identity in her inner beauty and strength, and in Christ; none of which will ever fade.

And maybe this is such a hot-button issue for me, because I would do well to do the same...