Why I Love My Bitch-Face Daughter, or the Tao of Boo (part 2)

In a world where women need to smile constantly, as a creepy little tax to simply live in the word, I have a daughter who is just not having it.

This is my daughter Boo, as Dorothy, when she was 8. You know, kind of like a “Don’t Fuck With Me” Dorothy.

She is not a big smiler. It is not a learned behavior. I smile like a manic cruise ship director and Boo has three sisters who smile easily, lighting the room. Boo can do this as well, but you need to earn it. You need to stand your ground against hurricane Boo and show her you are worthy of her trust. The girl does not suffer fools and simply does not smile unless you give her a damn good reason to smile.

She does not play the girl game at all. Not even a little bit.

She won’t make you feel good about yourself just because the world thinks that is her job as a woman. She won’t laugh off your passive aggressiveness; she will directly inquire: “what did you mean by that?“.

And she won’t have an easy journey in life. That much is already clear.

She was suspended from school last semester for basically having a bitch face. For not being polite when the world expected her to. For not acting as the social lubricant, as women are supposed to do. Her charge was bullying, but no words were ever used. She just intimidated other kids by the way she looked at them. Now, in my book this is an incredible skill to have, and since you can’t teach fierceness, you really should learn to channel it. But, the school could not see the genius of a 16 year old girl who turns adults into trembling piles of self-doubt and confusion, so they suspended her for 42 days for apparently no other reason than her bitch face.

So, yeah, life will be hard for her. I live in constant fear that some people who see how powerful she is will feel compelled to dim her light. Not playing by girl-rules will make her a target. It already has. But, I love her for exactly who she is, and although I have often yelled “Why can’t you just be nice?!” in frustration, I already know the answer.

She can’t be nice because she is not nice. She is fierce.

And if you are able to hold on, get past the dirty looks and abrasive attitude, you’ll find fiercely loving, fiercely intelligent, and fiercely kind (which is very different from nice).

I love this girl fiercely, even though I know the world may not always.

This girl has taught me all about myself and how I walk through the world, how my smile may not always be coming from my most authentic self, and how my manic need to smooth over every social situation is a burden I have placed upon myself without need. But mostly she has reminded me that there are lots of ways to be female and my way does not need to be hers, and hers is a valid way to be.