As we were taking in the news that we were having twins, we were trying to make sense of it all and process how this could work out for the best. We said within ourselves that a boy and a girl would work best because then we could be done having kids altogether. We knew two kids at one time would be more than enough for us to endure for the next 18+ years. I knew that I would’ve been terrified if I had two boys because I didn’t want my home to be wrecked from top to bottom and for us to be eaten out of house and home.
When we were sitting waiting for the doctor to tell us what we were having, I was super nervous. I knew that there was a girl in there somewhere. I could feel it… and I was right.
2x right.
I immediately got protective and strengthened and terrified at the same time. I remember what I was like as a little girl. I liked boys. I was overactive. I was loud. But I was free. But college… oh Lord. I’m gonna need some extra help with this one… well, these two.
I got into the car to drive back home and a Bruno Mars song came on, talking about how he wanted to take a girl down, describing her body, and being typical Bruno Mars and artists at the time. I SHUT THAT OFF SO QUICK!! I yelled at Bruno Mars in the car “You will NOT talk to my girls like that! You will respect them!”
And then I began to cry. I started to think about all the issues women were facing; not being respected, being seen as an object, not being given the same opportunities as men.
Then I began to think of all the things I could do to prevent them from having to deal with that. They weren’t even here and all I could think about was how to give them every opportunity in the world. Even now, I’m ensuring that no one and nothing says or does anything to hinder them from being who they were created to be. When they came out of the womb, the world’s mission is to conform them to some ideal image. But I refuse to be that woman, and I refuse for my children to grow up thinking they have to be those women.
It made me take a closer look at myself too. When my girls looked up to me, who would they see? Some woman working for someone else for her whole life? A quiet woman too afraid to speak up? Or a woman willing to put up the good fight for the future? Would they see a woman who was her own boss? Would they look at me and say “I want to be like mommy when I grow up”? Or would some other strong woman inspire them more than I would?
Not. On. My. Watch.