My daughter is seven years old. She is a magnificently sweet, playful, energetic, and innocent child. She is my daughter, my flesh and blood, and my love for her is unconditional and without bounds.
My daughter is also curious by nature, and is now beginning to take notice of those things around her that may be different.
Although my daughter is unaware of Anne, very rarely do I wear socks while in the house or out in the back yard. As a result, my daughter is accustomed to seeing my toes painted, and any nail art that I may be wearing at any given time. As far as my daughter is concerned, that's just the way it is, it's just the way it's always been, and it's just the way I am. No big deal.
Recently, though, she made a comment to me that really caught my attention. My daughter stated, "Daddy, you're a girl-tom!"
"A girl-tom?" I replied. "A girl-tom? Do you mean a tom-girl?"
With a sweet, lovely, and half-shy smile, she laughed. "Yeah, that's what I mean. I mean you're a tom-girl."
Of course, I asked her why she thought I was a tom-girl. Her response was I am a tom-girl because I always wear nail polish on my toes, and that is something that girls do.
Sensing the importance of this conversation, I sat down with her and asked if that bothered her, and whether she saw anything wrong with me wearing nail polish. My daughter replied that she thought it was "neat," that she thought all of the different colors and nail art she has seen me wear is "cool," and that she liked it that I wore polish.
Instantly, my heart swelled with pride over the comments my daughter had made. Admittedly, I also felt a certain amount of relief. But with this door open, I took the opportunity to explain to her that some people are different. I explained to her that there is no right or wrong way to dress, and that there is no right and wrong way to be. There are many, many people out in the world, and we are all different in some form or another. I further explained to her that we should celebrate and honor these differences, and not make fun of others over those differences, whatever those differences may be. As long as we are not hurting others, it's ok to be who we want to be. Everyone is beautiful, the world is amazing and full of diversity, and we should love and respect all.
The more we discussed these things, the more I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was thinking through each concept, each idea as presented to her. In the end, with another heart-melting, beautiful smile, my daughter acknowledged that she understood. And that was a wonderful, magical, magnificent moment. In this regard, my wife and I have always taught her tolerance and acceptance. But it was nice to see that the roots of those lessons have taken hold and begun to flower.
The thing about that moment, though, is that it was going to happen at some point. And I am happy that it finally did. It was an important moment. Of course, there is so much more to me than just painted toes. But that is a conversation that is far from ripe for discussion with her. That's a discussion for another day. If and when that day occurs, though, I know that her love for her “girl-tom” father will neither falter nor be compromised. I believe this with all of my heart. She's my baby girl, and she will always be my baby girl!!!
As we were finishing up, as if on some predestined queue, my daughter had just one last question for me. Not knowing what she was about to ask, though, I sat back down with my daughter.
"Daddy, will you help me paint my toes right now?"
And with that question, as my daughter stared lovingly and expectantly into my eyes, hoping that I would say "yes," my heart instantly and completely melted, burst, and exploded in joy, happiness, and love all at the same time!!!