On Having a Daughter

I can't say I always longed for a daughter. I do think that baby girl clothes are much cuter than baby boy clothes, that girl toddlers are slightly less wound up than boy toddlers. But when I pictured growing up and having babies, it was always boys. Boys. Only boys, I'd say to myself. I would be a natural mother to boys, with my fart jokes, my inability to function in groups of women. Me with my love for sharks and roller blades and eating large amounts of pizza. Me with my preference to boys as friends, confidantes, roommates...

As my sister Hannah said when I told her I was pregnant and we were guessing the gender, "Boys want boys and girls want girls!" Women are supposed to want girls. The concept of a daughter has always frightened me. What if boys were mean to her when she got older, called her a dog and a nerd, while the girls called her ugly and slut to her face during her awkward years with C cup boobs? What if in high school she decided to hate me? Told me to go to hell, slammed her door in my face, like I did to my own mother during those hateful years. What if she had her heart broken, locked herself in the bathroom? What if she fell in love before her heart was able to handle a fracture, convinced herself she was worthless?

What if she became... me?

What if I was unable to guide her through the torrential downpour of adolescence and beyond? What if I forgot how it felt to be a girl becoming a woman?

This is only the beginning of what I know parenthood will be like: a constant feeling of not enough.

Sigh.

Back to my taquitos.