so vain

For a few weeks now, I've been composing an entry in my head. It was entitled "Boo's self awareness." I was going to write about how she knows how smart, pretty and funny she is. But also about how she knows she is a diva and can be a handful. With her self awareness comes this amazing self confidence. It's really not the kind of confidence that can be taught. This kid was born with it. When she started walking, she had this amazing swagger; spine erect, shoulders back, she walked around like she owned the place. I laughed about it then, and still do.

I was going to write about how the other day she was setting up her Playmobil barn set, with the kids and all the animals inside - even the mice and the birds - getting ready for the imaginary coming storm. "Because," she said, "I'm like that. I like to take care of people and animals, and make sure everyone is safe and comfortable." What child knows herself to notice that she is like that?

And I was going to write about how she looks at herself in the mirror, not scowling or questioning, but fully, completely happy and satisfied with what she sees. I said to her a couple of days ago as she peered at herself in the full-length mirror in my room, "you know you're beautiful," not as a question, but more as a matter of fact comment. "Yeah," was her unselfconscious response.

These thoughts of her self confidence were on my mind, and I was feeling pretty proud of her, in the midst of an episode that shocked me a bit and caused a huge revelation.

Boo was saying something about how she's pretty, and I jokingly started singing Carly Simon's "You're So Vain." Boo asked me what vain meant. As I started explaining it - it's when a person feels that they're really beautiful or really good at something - something made me stop. Wait a second. I want her to know that that she's beautiful and good at things. That's not vain. Or if it is, then vanity can't be a bad thing.

Until relatively recently, I didn't think, not really, that I was beautiful. I didn't like my body. There were parts of my face I'd change if given the opportunity. I wasn't confident in many of my abilities, either. I was always taught to minimise my successes, achievements, gifts. And now that I am proud of what I have accomplished thus far in my life, happy with my body and how I look, I find it hard to admit it. Because so few people seem satisfied with who they are. We're sold a story that who we are just isn't good enough. That's why the beauty industry and the weight loss and fitness industries are doing so well. And the self-help sections in book stores are full of "be a better person" advice. I'm not saying there isn't always room for improvement. But at some point, isn't it okay to say, "I like who I am"?

So I stopped myself from finishing my thought to Boo (and The Bean, who was also in the room) about vanity. I just told them, "be proud of who you are; it's okay."

The teen years really are just around the corner. I wish I'd had half the confidence Boo has (and I am working hard at instilling it in The Bean). Because all too soon, there will be girls who will say, "she thinks she's SO special (or SO pretty)," which is meant to minimise who she is, take her down a peg. But I want her to think to herself, or even perhaps to say, "damn straight I am" and mean it. And own it. And walk around like she owns the whole place.