I’m not even going to touch on what Timberlake Christian School did, although it does make me that much more grateful for that stiff jumper and butterfly collar I wore in parochial school. Or else I might have gotten a similar note; unless, of course, TCS is the ignorant anomaly I hope it is.
ANYWAY, let’s talk instead about Sunnie’s confident disposition to be who she is despite all the noise. I think we could all learn a lesson or two from this beautiful and wise 8-year-old girl.
“I should just be allowed to be me and not have them worry about it.” – sunnie kahle
Also, what about Sunnie’s awesome great-Gma? I just adore her and her attitude.
“If my child grows up to be a homosexual or transgendered, I’ll love that child that much more.”
I was about five when I cut [read: “hacked off”] my hair all by myself. My mother was horrified when she found me, scissors in hand.
I much preferred my brother’s hand-me-downs to the frill and fuss my mom would have chosen. My mom hoped I’d find finesse in ballet, while my dad hoped I’d find fortitude in ice hockey.
I had a doll collection, but I loved all things GI Joe, Transformers and Star Wars. I was a natural athlete; my brothers were gods in my eyes, anything they did, I was always three steps behind.
I did not handle the “Are you a boy or a girl?” questions nearly as confidently as Sunnie. I was embarrassed and felt naive to think that I could do what I pleased and not be criticized.
My family was always supportive of my athletics, but not as big of fan of my dress. I was often encouraged to dress more like a “lady.” My Gma and I would fight in the middle of THE GAP over their unisex style “boyfriend jeans” and oxfords with the buttons on the wrong side. (Apparently men and women have different sides for buttons??)
I don’t wish things to be any different, but I often wonder what it might have been like to feel more confident in my skin and to have a less critical family of my appearance. I suppose I could have saved myself plenty of boyfriend disasters and dances with promiscuity trying to date myself straight. But they do make for great stories and, seriously, I have no regrets.
I just hope that I have the courage to let my child/ren be exactly who they are, that I not try to protect them with my own fears of the world, and that I love and encourage them no matter what. (Although if we can avoid super girlie girl, and goth, anything goth … I’d greatly appreciate it!)
I leave you with this: Judge less. Love more. And give up trying to put people, or even yourself, in boxes that fit our parameters. We’re all much more interesting that way.