in a perfect world, my daughter will never leave my side.
She will never tell me she hates me, will never kiss a boy, she will never sneak out of her room at night, will never try alcohol before she’s 21, and will never go farther than a weekend drive distance for college.
But then i breathe. it’s an easy breath, because i know we have a bond that no matter how horrendous the fight, how crazy the boyfriend, or how far the distance to Princeton (her current obsession, not mine. i say Bates Bobcats all the way, sheesh), we will overcome.
I know these things will all happen, because i believe it is a right of passage, of sorts, for girls.
Now, let’s all acknowledge it’s 2011. Which means things are different than when i was a teenager in the 80’s.
First of all, i believe wholeheartedly that mothers and daughters have a different relationship now. We’re strict, of course, but of the hundreds of mothers i know today, i see a friendship, a closeness, a TRUST, that i don’t think existed back when i was young.
Second, i believe the age of social media has changed the course of things for the relationship between a mother and her daughter (i use this gender-gender only because it’s the one i live and therefore the only one upon which i can comment).
We have cell phones, we have facebook, we have texing, tweeting, and MMS’ing.
I know, without a doubt, that i can, at any point, track my daughter’s whereabouts (with aforementioned trust) and therefore spend many fewer sleepless nights than MY mother did where there was nothing more than a landline upon which she could rely.
and finally. most importantly. why a boy? why not a person with whom she falls in love?
Why IS that always the fairytale, to this day?
Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine.
All fought for the prince. All needed the prince. All, weirdly, knew how to ride a galloping horse riding sideways, which is utter bullshit…. but i digress.
Here’s the thing.
My daughter. My beautiful, sweet, loving 9 year old (or “almost 10 year old” as she reminds me daily), has been asking to try on my wedding dress recently. It’s been in storage for years whilst building our house, so it didn’t really exist in her life.
But she remembers it well, as she was our flower girl in our wedding, at age 3.
And now, 6 years later, it is out of storage and hanging in my closet. She is relentless with her request to touch it, feel it, play every girls traditional game of “dress-up” in it.
But life has been busy. Weekends get task driven… do the things that fall behind during a 50 hour plus work week.
Today was about my 9-almost-10-year-old being able to live out her fantasy of trying on my wedding dress.
But on my terms.
Which means we got to do it in barefeet, in the mud, with no makeup, and showing the trueness of my wildchild instead of the bullshit fantasy of a Disney princess following the rules of society and hoping for acceptance from wicked stepmothers, too-pretty-for-their-own-good princes, and surly-ass queens.
This is the photoshoot we did. Together. Me and my daughter.
With nothing more than my Canon G11 and my new found love for Lightroom.
And if, when she is older and ready to say “i do”, i hope, pray, and know in the very essence of my soul it will be to the man or woman she loves.
To the princesses, be damned.
I hope you enjoy the photos.