An Apology Letter to Brooklyn

Dear Brooklyn,

I’m sorry for those three words that I said to you the other day.  Actually, I’ve mentioned them a few times, they make up a simple question, and it wasn’t until after I asked that I realized the impact I could be making.  I’m so thankful that you’re still young, and that sometimes things fly by your head, but there have been a couple of times that you’ve given me a funny look and my heart sinks just thinking that you might understand.

“Are you sure?”

Sometimes I say those words to your daddy when he’s choosing dinner, or I’ll ask Pima the same question when it comes to her math answers.  I know that the question seems so little, but the magnitude of its meaning in the way I’ve used it with you is embarrassing for me.  As your Momma I know that growing up you’ll face peers and real life situations that will change the way you do some things or the way you might think of yourself, but I would’ve never expected that I would be the one to introduce you to the thoughts that can eventually plague girls. 

I promise, with everything in me, that I will not ask “are you sure” when it comes to your outfit or hair choice ever again.  That one day when you walked out with your cute shirt, over sized mismatched skirt and funky socks with sandals, I apologize for responding with “are you sure you want to wear that?”  When you choose one color to wear and you literally put it on head to toe whether the shades are similar or not. Or the time that you wanted braids like all of your friends have at school and I explained that they have hair like your sister Pima, so your braids wouldn’t look exactly the same.  I guess I could’ve braided your hair anyway, and let you decide if you liked the way it looked.  When you grab shoes out of the closet and I have another pair in mind that would match your outfit, I’m sorry for suggesting what would be my choice and let you second guess your own.

I remember the day that your Nana actually told me that she felt like I cared too much about what others thought of my looks.  Even though she confronted me during my freshman year of college I believe that I really started caring my junior year of high school.  Obviously there were times growing up that I heard people making fun of my curly high stacked bangs, my hairy legs in fourth grade or my pink neon stretch pants.  But every time I came home questioning my looks or outfit choice your grandparents were quick to say I was beautiful and remind me of the way God had created me with my own unique style.  

Miss B, I’m blown away by your beauty.  Seriously.  And you’re so like your Momma in the way you let your hair just flow without brushing it, take forever to choose your outfit and are always on the hunt for a new purse.   As I stand at your closet with you because you can’t reach your clothes yet, I’m happy to know that you’re asking me to grab something down with no thought behind an item other than the fact that you want to wear it.  I pray that you continue to make style choices based on you and not by the influence of any girls, TV or pictures you might see at your age.  Eventually pictures can inspire you, but I want that inspiration to build on a strong foundation of knowing what you already love. 

So unless you walk out with spaghetti straps in December, which you have done before, I will not be questioning you after getting dressed.  Once you’ve accessorized with your Frozen bracelet, Hello Kitty hair clip and Disney Princess purse, I will smile with delight as you discover the joy of dressing yourself and pulling an outfit together.  When your layering of multiple shirts makes no sense to me I will praise you for your unique eye in fashion.  Then hopefully as we work on building a strong sense of confidence for you, you can learn to support your friends at school who might have a different style altogether.  Learning early on that girls need girls/women need women will help you to fight comparison and be a cheerleader for your girlfriends, and as your Momma I promise to work on intentionally modeling that in our home. 

So rock your style Miss Brooklyn, and maybe one day I’ll be taking tips from you.


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