Is She Pretty?

My MIL and I have tentatively reached out to each other in an attempt to begin to start anew with one another. A few weeks ago I wrote a blog post about RMB and I and how we began our relationship, and MIL took offense to something I wrote about her parents, which I never intended to be any such thing against them. RMB had read the post before I published it and understood what I intended by it, but MIL bristled and wrote to him about how it was fine if I slammed her on my blog (which I never have done) but I needed to leave her parents out of it.

And it was just the fact that she was criticizing MY blog - MY space to write and express myself - and turned it back on herself when it had nothing to do with her... and it was the final straw. I'd been sitting on an email for NINE months, waiting for the day that RMB gave me the green light to go ahead and send it to her. But instead of sending that email I composed a new one; this one I limited to my specific feelings about my son's birth and the whole baptism drama, and told her outright that every time I think of her, I think of the pain I feel because of her words and actions. And how I want to have a relationship with her but I don't know where to begin because that's where I am right now. RMB helped me revise it, and we sent it immediately.

Shockingly, when she spoke to RMB the next day her voice was filled with regret and sadness, but none of the anger I was expecting in response to that email. A few days after that she emailed me back, apologizing for being so controlling and trying to change me and my beliefs, and expecting me to fill the role she had imagined I should take on. She told me she'd missed me this past year and she'd like to start over.

I talked to her on the phone the following weekend - about nothing important, other than the kids - but it was a start. And it's because I refuse to burn bridges there that I need to write the following post HERE. Because I need to write it, get it off my chest, but I can't do it anywhere else.

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I have a daughter. Having once been a girl myself, I remember and understand what it feels like to not be the prettiest, or the smartest, or the funniest girl in school. I remember never being the best and wanting to stand out in some positive way, so that I could have tangible evidence of my self-worth.

In raising my daughter I have tried so hard to point out differences in people - that some are men, some are women; that some have light skin and others dark; that our eyes are different shapes, or that some people's bodies are very small and others are large. I've tried to point out to her that people come in all shapes and sizes... but mostly I've tried to stress that it doesn't matter what form, shape, or color someone's body comes in; that what matters more is what is on the inside. I've even had religious and philosophical discussions with her, because RMB comes from a Catholic family, but I was raised Protestant and am now agnostic and trying to figure out how my beliefs fit in to a larger "religion". And when my sister converted to Islam a year and a half ago, I had to explain to my daughter why her favorite aunt - who she is VERY attached and close to - now covers her body and wears a hijab, and why she no longer celebrates Christmas, but rather Eid. Equality for all despite differences, is the point I've been trying to make.

I have tried SO HARD to raise my daughter to be tolerant - to see and acknowledge - differences in people, and to never judge someone based on what they look like.

So it just about killed me when I overheard my daughter talking to MIL a few weekends ago - during that conversation in which I was participating - and my daughter was telling MIL about a new friend she'd made at school.

MIL's first question was not, "What is her name?" or "Is she nice?" or "What do you two like to do when you play?" or even "What does she look like?" but "Is she pretty?"

Are you kidding me? I nearly grabbed the phone and answered for my daughter that it doesn't, in fact, matter whether her new friend is pretty or the ugliest child on the playground, because what actually matters is that they get along well.

I was only saved by the look on my daughter's face as she tried to process that question. She honestly didn't know how to answer it, and in fact she didn't. She merely said, "Well, her dad is American and her mom is Japanese, and she has long black hair and brown eyes, and we have the same dress that we're going to wear on the same day to school sometime! Like we're twins!" Because even my five-year-old understands how ludicrous a question like that is.

So I guess I'm doing something right... that my almost-six-year-old understands that something as superficial as appearance matters not at all when it comes to choosing her friends, but rather the quality of their character. My MIL turns 60 this year. I'm just wondering when she'll learn the same thing.