One of the best things you ever did as a parent for us — but really just for me, because I’m a girl and the boys aren’t — was something you didn’t do.
By this time in our chat, I was really curious to know what I had not done that was so impactful.
. . .
The Bombshell about My Parenting Skills
Amira, my 19-year-old daughter, surprised me recently with a comment on my parenting skills. Usually I get negative feedback from her, but this time it was stellar approval.
And I was totally floored. Especially when she began by saying that it was probably unintentional on my part as a parenting maneuver.
Disclaimer: Amira and I couldn’t be more different. To give telling examples: She spends hours every day on her skin complexion and hair using a wide variety of products. (More on this in a future article.) I spend maybe 5 minutes on mine. Likewise, she’ll agonize literally for hours over what to wear to a grocery store. Me? Whatever I put on that morning.
“You never shaved your legs.”
My face went quizzical. I was silent for a long moment, not yet realizing what Amira was getting at. I asked her to explain.
“You know how girls are supposed to be always concerned about their looks? How we’re unattractive — even ugly — if we don’t wear makeup, have perfect skin, the right hairstyle, wear the latest fashion, have a skinny waist with big boobs and butt and full lips? So there’s a lot of pressure to always meet those standards.
You couldn’t care less about those ideals of female beauty. And now, I really don’t, either. Thanks, mom.”
It was hard for me to hide my astonishment. My mouth formed an “O” shape. My eyebrows went sky high. But inside, I was overjoyed. Thrilled, in fact.
Instead of jumping up and down and hugging her exclaiming “That was my intention the whole time!” I calmly said, “I’m glad to hear that. Beauty is only skin deep. Your true beauty is inside. In fact, real beauty refers to non-physical things like integrity, courage, and empathy.”
As I pronounced one of the foundational tenets of The World According to Me, I had a sudden déjà vu realization: I sounded just like my mother, someone I vowed many times over that I’d never imitate. But here I was. And it actually had a good effect on my child!
My daughter’s comment made me reflect a bit on the history of my hairy legs and how I got to be like that.
. . .
Hairy Legs Did Not Run in My Family
Growing up, I was the quintessential “tomboy.” I was outside more than inside from age 3 on up when my mom allowed me to venture out on my own. She was overwhelmed with a new baby and caring for her stroke-ridden mother, so happy to see me go. As much as possible until school got in the way. (Homeschooling hadn’t been “invented” yet.)
In the early ‘70s, city alleys were still safe, especially when people looked out for neighbors’ kids, like they did in Highlandtown in Baltimore City. My mom had several “spies” who’d look out for me and call her with hourly updates of my whereabouts and doings.
I also carried on the tradition in my family, started with my two older sisters, of being the “paper boy.” I delivered newspapers in my neighborhood by pushing around a shopping cart brimming with the latest edition starting at age 8 until I hit 20.
When I first took over my sisters’ routes, they gave me a tour to introduce me. Some customers asked them, “Who’s your little brother?” while gesturing to me. It must have been my short sun-blonde hair that gave them the idea. Or my high energy level.
In 7th grade, at a Catholic school, I was still wearing undershirts, resisting a “training bra.” Until one day, the nuns called home to tell my mother that my breasts were becoming “prominent” and I needed to start wearing a bra. The boys were starting to “see too much.”
That was not a happy day for me.
Later, at an all-girls high school (also Catholic), I saw many of my peers wearing makeup, perfume, and jewelry. At dances, they’d wear high heels.
Not me. Call me a plain Jeanne in sneakers.
Puberty hit in full force and my legs sprouted course, dark hair. I let it grow while everyone else my age shaved theirs.
I guess I was too strong-willed— or too individualistic — to do otherwise. I was also busy studying or playing sports to worry about the hair on my legs. Nor did I care what other people were doing or what they thought of me.
I was definitely the odd-person out and proud of it. Also unique at home.
My mother shaved her legs. She even put on makeup for special occasions. And wore high heels. My sisters shaved their legs, too. But none of us girls wore makeup or high heels in middle or high school. It just wasn’t part of our upbringing.
. . .
Hairy Legs in Africa
Years later, I joined the Peace Corps and worked in Africa for over three years. Like most volunteers, I lived like a minimalist. All-natural, of course.
There, I had a medical reason for not shaving my legs (or at least I rationalized it as such): A razor nick could easily get infected. That would mean a day’s trip to our med unit in the capital city, a couple of day’s stay, and another long trip back. In an overloaded vehicle without AC, a couple of live chickens or goats at my feet, a screaming baby or two, and four feet of luggage strapped on the top that had to be untied to retrieve a parcel, then reloaded at every stop. (There were many.) The process could take hours each time.
I had already gone through all that for an underarm fungal infection caused by — you guessed it — shaving. (Yes, it really was as horrible as it sounds.) And I certainly didn’t want to do it again. Every time I shifted my position slightly while biking, (my major form of transportation), on dusty roads, the cut would open up again. Ouch!
But, I almost started shaving my legs when I had learned from my Beninese female friends that hairy legs were a sign of sexual prowess. I didn’t want that reputation. But in the end, I let my legs be. It was just a hassle when it was so hot (no AC, either). People were entitled to believe anything they wanted about me. I just did my own thing.
I eventually married one of my male suitors in Benin. He admitted that he had noticed my hairy legs first. I kept them unshaven after our trip to the United States and the entire time we were married. Years later, they are still hairy. (Please don’t hold it against me.)
. . .
Hairy-Legged Mommy
So, without even trying, simply because I didn’t shave my legs, I somehow conveyed the idea to my child that physical looks weren’t important. That beauty is internal. And she’s relieved. She doesn’t feel forced to live up to anyone’s expectations. No body shaming here! So, I’ll give myself a small pat on the back. 🙂
I hope my two sons (now 15 and 17) will also adopt a mindset of beauty being internal in terms of their self-image and if they ever look for a partner. Not care whether legs are shaven or not. Or care about anything physical used to qualify as “beauty.” Time will tell.
PS: Last year, my older son verbalized a comment about my unshaven legs for the first time. He asked if I had ever shaved my legs in my entire life. He wasn’t surprised when I had answered “no.” He sort of smiled and looked at me weird. That’s mom for ya!
. . .
Hyper-Sexualization of Young Girls: The Reality
There is so much compulsion put on young girls, and increasingly, on boys — by the media, advertising, and, unfortunately, sometimes by parents themselves — to become sex objects. Even for babies or toddlers at the tender age of 2, you can buy high heels! The recent film “Cuties” documents the societal drive to sexualize young girls.
Online chat rooms or social media make it very easy for underage girls and boys as young as 10 to be “picked up” by sexual predators — usually white men on the prowl for virgins.
Because of this felt coercion to be desirable to men, a number of mental health problems and other negative outcomes for the young victims have been well-documented. These include:
- Eating disorders
- Depression
- STDs
- Teen pregnancy
- Suicide
As a concerned parent, you want to prevent your child from falling into this trap set for them. The good news is you don’t have to keep your legs hairy to succeed. (Although, speaking as one who knows, it could always help.)
Here are some ideas to reinforce your belief that beauty is internal — not physical.
10 Tips for Shaven-Legged Parents and Others to Redefine “Beauty” with and for Your Kids
You send subtle, unspoken cues to your kids all the time. Like I discovered with my daughter, you may not even be aware of the signals you’re sending.
To make the process a little easier to navigate — and win at — try one or more of the following tips. The more often, and the greater number you practice, will drive your point home: Beauty is inside, not outside. This is the bottom line that you want to get across.
Take Home Message: Actions speak louder than words. Make acting in these ways habits for life in your home.
- Don’t body shame yourself or your child. Ever.
- Compliment your child on their “beautiful” behavior or speech. Call it that. De-emphasize their external appearance as the source of their beauty. You’re reimagining with them what “beauty” is.
- Promote people, especially women, who may look “average” but have “beautiful” characters and values. From history, Eleanor Roosevelt and Rosa Parks come to mind. Read about them together. View documentaries about them. Discuss how they were beautiful. Use that term. Do this regularly for different people — men and women.
- Don’t have magazines or tabloids around — or permit your child to read them elsewhere — that glorify most celebrities’ appearances. I’m thinking of folks like the Kardashians. (A few famous people, like teen climate activist Greta Thunberg, are the exception.) Likewise, don’t watch them on TV or in movies.
- If you wear makeup, keep it minimal. Don’t allow your child to observe you put it on, nor give tutorials, until you’re ready to give them permission to wear it (if at all). The goal is to de-glamorize it. Not make it sexy. Call me a prude, but my recommended age for first makeup: 18. Better safe than sorry.
- Wear only modest clothing. No tight-fitting jeans, ultramini-skirts, low-cut blouses, etc. Make sure your child’s wardrobe is modest, too. Always.
- Protect your spine and theirs. No heels over 2 inches. No heels until age 16 or older.
- Keep your child off social media until age 18 or make sure you have access to their usernames and passwords. If you permit this, check regularly. At the very least, use a service like Bark to catch any potentially lethal or criminal behavior (committed by your child as well as to them).
- Use email accounts that you can view at any time. Do so.
- Monitor Internet use at all times on all electronic devices. Install filters that work, if possible, to block certain sites.
By taking a pro-active role and regularly following one or more of these 10 tips on redefining beauty, you can instill self-confidence and self-love into your child without even mentioning the terms. These are gifts that will last a lifetime. Start today. It may take 19 years for your child to notice, like it did in my case. But when they do, you’ll breathe a sigh of relief.
—
This post was previously published on A Parent Is Born.
***
If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project and want a deeper connection with our community, please join us as a Premium Member, today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS. Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: Pexels
