When my husband and I found out we were having a baby, we were ecstatic. A few months later, we were told we were having a boy. I am ashamed to admit I breathed a huge sigh of relief. So much of my experience in being a woman (at the time) was super tainted and had made me feel a little jaded. Everything I was always felt underrated; nothing I did ever made me “enough.” Meanwhile, I saw men with less smarts, talent, and drive able to move forward in every aspect of their lives simply because they were given more value and the respect of having the benefit of the doubt. Suffice to say, the relief I felt at having a boy made me feel like I would have less to battle in terms of raising him in a world that is truly set up for him on some level. Please note, I do not mean that men have it made. I know they don’t. Especially men of color. I just felt less dread. Maybe you can understand that and maybe you can’t. Either way, it was what I felt.
Then, a few weeks later, we discovered that little Ben (what we had decided to name the baby) was not little Ben. Ben became Rosemary (named after my mother). Issy was ecstatic to be a dad to a girl. My heart fluttered and I smiled in total bliss. I was also excited because, let’s be honest, baby stuff for girls tends to be a bit more varied and exciting than it is for boys… which is total crap and I will address this in a future post. I knew a little lady would be so much fun to raise. In the car on the way home from the clinic, my stomach started knotting; the dread had set in. A girl. The fight had already started. My mind blew up with the following thoughts:
We live in a world where being a woman is not always valued. We live in a world where women have to fight for basic rights and respect. Being a woman in the world today has never been so complicated. Sure, there are lots of opportunities… but not all of them are available to us. We aren’t paid fairly. Our decision to wear a sexy outfit makes us the target of uneducated men who can’t keep it in their pants. Once we say, “Yes” to sex, we can’t change our minds without conflict. We are held to a higher standard to be nice and polite and “ladylike.” Our success rides on us being aggressive, but not too aggressive. Calling someone out on their shit earns you the title of “bitch.” A woman with smarts is still expected to start at the bottom and earn the right to learn and the right to climb the ladder. But men? Not always. They just need to flirt with HR a little to negotiate their salary and position title… and yes, that’s a true story from a young man growing in his career from intern to young professional. Their strength and confidence are considered just that… strength and confidence. What makes this so impossibly infuriating is that men are always given the benefit of the doubt. Women have to earn that right.
Round and round my mind went analyzing my experiences. And that was just in the past decade… as I thought further back, I cringed. I remember a teacher telling me that the reason I struggled with math is because girls tend to have minds that are meant for literature and history over science and math. I remember being told that “good girls” are quiet by my 4th grade teacher. And she didn’t mean it in the sense that I was too loud. She truly meant soft spoken… those were the girls she praised in class. On and on my head continued to pull up a lot of buried memories. The next day after my husband went to work, I cried. I cried because I already wanted so badly to run into battle to protect her.
In the midst of everything that is going on in the world, I am aware of how I react to it all will imprint on her. I don’t want to fill her head with the idea that being a woman is hard and create this chip on her shoulder before she is able to navigate and conquer the world on her own. What I want to do is to give her the skills to know herself well, to be articulate, and to not be afraid of a challenge. I think that is what most parents want for their child- girl OR boy. What makes the journey harder for me is that I don’t want to taint her with my own experiences. I don’t want her to see me process my own life as a woman and then carry that on her to own. How do I tell her that? How do I live that?
I am working on it. Rosemary is only 21 months and I am already so in awe of her. She is capable of so much and is learning so much. When thinking about her future, I don’t have the same dread as I did when she was growing in my belly. I still have some dread and a lot of concerns but I know that Issy and I are able to navigate it. It’s going to be a day by day thing. And that’s ok. For now, issues like this aren’t important. What’s important to Rosemary is that I wrap up this blog and help her eat breakfast. For now, that’s all.
The Salty Exchange 