I have a daughter named Rose, and I have gained something indispensable from her recently. I learn from all of my children continually, but this one struck home, especially in the season of life I’m in. I find myself comparing my life to others. The larger house, the larger car, the “better” mom bod, the more behaved children, the better spiritual walk. You name it, I’ve felt it. Some days are good, and I’m thankful to simply have a house or a car or children. And some days I feel envious of people with a pool or a “hotter” postpartum body or a thriving career.
Lately, I’ve just been struggling to simply be proud of me.
Well, Rose has no such issues. She is proud of who she is, and she has no intention of being anyone else.
Last night, Yev was cuddling with the girls on the couch, and he said, “You guys are my babies.”
Rose said, “No. I’m not a baby.”
Yev smiled and followed up. “Are you a toddler?”
She responded with a definitive, “No.”
“Are you a twin?”
“No, papa.”
“Are you–”
“Papa, I’m a Rosie!”
My little girl knew simply and irrevocably who she was. And it got me thinking. If someone asked me who I was, would I proudly reply, “I’m a Jacque!” Or would I be confused and unsure? Would I start to list all of my accomplishments? Would I tell you about my family?
My daughter knows that she is unique and lovable, and being herself is simply enough. What a wonderful belief to hold about ourselves.