It was a little after 10 a.m. on a Saturday when I found myself in the living room with my 7-year-old daughter, Lily. Clad in her favorite blue princess nightgown, she was busy sketching on a whiteboard. After we finished breakfast, I was tidying up when I spotted a crumpled piece of notebook paper on the table. Curious, I unfolded it to reveal a drawing—a somewhat wobbly portrait that unmistakably showed a little girl’s face. The hair and facial features were there, albeit exaggerated; the lips seemed a tad too large, and the nose resembled a boot. At the top corner, I saw her name: “Lily.”
“Did you create this?” I asked, holding it up.
Lily turned, her face paling slightly. “Daddy, give that to me right now,” she demanded, extending her hand.
“Why? It’s adorable!” I replied, stepping back slightly.
“It’s not cute!” she exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up into her bangs—this was her serious face, the one she wore when she meant business. “It makes me look,” she stomped her foot and clenched her fists, “like a loser!”
Lily marched over, snatched the paper from my hand, and proclaimed, “You know what I’m going to do?”
I shrugged, unsure of what was to come.
She began tearing the picture to shreds as if it were evidence of a terrible crime, then stomped to the kitchen and tossed the remnants into the trash. With a misty-eyed stare of determination, she plopped down on the sofa, burying her face into the arm farthest from me.
I sat there for a few moments, feeling lost. As a dad, I often find myself in situations like this. When my son gets upset, I understand him easily; I know that giving him space will lead to a resolution. He’s a lot like me.
But Lily? She’s a different story. Her emotions pour out dramatically. When she’s upset, it can turn into a theatrical display, complete with grand proclamations about how she’ll never hug me again unless I let her have a friend over. She often hides her face and stomps her feet, leaving me bewildered.
This was one of those times.
I knew I had to do something, but what? The night had been long with our toddler, who was finally asleep, and Mel had gone back to bed. It was just me and Lily.
I sat beside her and attempted to rub her back, but she swatted at my hand without lifting her head. So I remained silent, waiting for her to speak.
After a while, she finally said, “Samantha drew it.”
“Oh,” I replied, recalling that Samantha was a girl from church who had sat next to Lily in Sunday school the previous week.
“I just look like such a loser,” she confessed, her voice trailing off.
While I wouldn’t take a friend’s less-than-flattering drawing personally, I recognized that helping my daughter navigate her feelings is a challenge I often face. This was likely the first time Lily had seen herself through someone else’s eyes. Sure, she had seen photos of herself, but now she was grappling with the reality of how others perceive her.
“You know, Lily, your mom and I are nerds too. We wear thick glasses and enjoy discussing books. Being a nerd is perfectly fine,” I reassured her.
She sighed heavily, as if to say, “You just don’t get it.”
And truthfully, I didn’t. I had a sobering realization that I might never fully understand her. Loving someone deeply yet failing to grasp their inner world is a difficult aspect of parenting. I often find myself struggling to comprehend my wife’s perspective too. Despite my beliefs in equality and understanding, the differences between genders become starkly apparent, especially when trying to support my young daughter through emotional turmoil. I want Lily to grow up confident in who she is, both inside and out, but it’s no easy task.
Not knowing how to respond, I fell silent again. Eventually, Lily murmured, “I just look ugly. That picture shows how ugly I am.”
“Lily,” I began, “I won’t say that was just a terrible drawing by a terrible artist because I doubt you would believe me. And honestly, I probably couldn’t draw a better picture of you myself. But what I can say is that you have incredibly bright blue eyes. That’s special. Your nose is small—you got that from your mother. Your smile is warm and inviting, making people want to talk to you. You have sweet ears that pick up on details I often miss. You get your cheeks from me, and while they look big on me, they suit your lovely jawline. Your mouth is curious, always asking questions, and I cherish that about you. If I were to paint you, that’s how I would depict you.”
Though she didn’t look up, I could see her ears perk up, hinting at a smile. She sat up, turned towards me, and then buried her face into my side, wrapping her arms around me tightly.
As a father, I seize every opportunity to remind my daughter of her worth, hoping that the words resonate. The hardest realization is that my perspective on her beauty doesn’t matter as much as her own view of herself. I tried to convey that, albeit perhaps not as articulately as I would have liked. She held on to me even more tightly.
“I’m not sure if what I said changes how you feel, but I hope it does. I love you.”
We sat together for a while, and though I wasn’t certain if she felt completely better about her appearance, I sensed I had managed to uplift her spirits, and for me, navigating this complex landscape of fatherhood felt like a significant achievement.
In a world where understanding our children is an ongoing journey, remember to embrace the moments, even when they challenge us.
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Summary
Parenting can be a challenging journey, especially when trying to understand the emotional complexities of a child. Through a heartfelt conversation, a father learns the importance of recognizing and affirming his daughter’s self-worth, despite the difficulties they face in communicating. Emphasizing the need for patience and love, this story reflects the ongoing struggle of connecting with our children on a deeper level.