Thursday, March 3, 2011
My Imaginary Daughter
Sunday I attended an Oscar-viewing party with my boyfriend. I entered the pool ($5 entry), knowing full well that I'd be leaving the party before the Oscars were over. We carefully picked who we thought would win Best Actor, Best Director, etc. My boyfriend asked me if it was ok that we were leaving early: could we still win? I said yes. It was fine. I didn't bother checking with the organizer, because I didn't want to intrude.
I found out the next day that the winning ballot got 10 of 16 right. I looked at the duplicate copy of my own ballot -- 12 of 16 right. Hmm, I thought. I guess we had to stay. And then I went on with my life.
A couple days later, my boyfriend asked me how many categories the winner got right.
"Ten," I said.
"What?!" He got mad. "I thought you said it was ok if we left!"
I said that I just assumed. He said he wished I were more assertive.
Yeah, me too I suppose. But my reticence is such a part of me. I'm accustomed to coping with it myself, figuring out other ways to express myself and get my needs met. It's just interesting looking at it through someone else's eyes.
I imagine having a daughter. Age two. Age five. Age fifteen. How do I teach her to be confident? How do I teach her not to be afraid of others or of food? How do I make her feel important, always? How do I instill that which I lack?