Going to the Mall

Going to the mall with Kristen is both "the best of times" (for her), and "the worst of times" (for me). Kristen loves the mall. I hate it. But strangely enough it is a place where we really can have some fun together. We tend to like the same things. We mostly disagree on sizes and how long or short a skirt or pair of shorts really is. Her perception of "mid thigh" varies substantially from mine.

When she was younger, I worried about her sense of style or lack of it. She didn't seem to care what she wore as long as it was comfortable. Then, seeemingly overnight, she started caring. And I remember the first time we shopped together after that. It was awful. She'd come out of the change room and the conversation would go something like this:

Me: Isn't that a little small?
Kristen: No. It fits (translation-I got it on didn't I?)
Me: Let me find a larger size.
Kristen: Big sigh, rolling of eyes
Me: Pleeeease, just for me, can you try on the larger size?
Kristen: Okay (translation-I'll try it on just to humour you but I already know which size I'm going to get)

We were having a terrible time. She'd come out of the change room looking beautiful and with a body that I could only dream of, wearing clothes that showed-curves! I wanted to get a blanket or at least a large sweat shirt to cover her up.

It was at that moment that I had an epiphany of sorts. My little girl was turning into a woman and I wasn't ready for it. I don't think that it was the style of clothing that was bothering me as much as the fact that she was growing up. I had already begun to notice the looks when we walked together. It wasn't me they were staring at but this beauty who was walking beside me.

For most of my life I have had a rather poor image of my body. I knew this before I had children and my prayer always has been that I don't pass that unhealthy attitude on to them. And for the most part, I believe I haven't. That day at the mall I realized that I tend to wear baggy clothes so that I can hide. Kristen on the other hand, feels pretty comfortable in her skin and does not feel a need to do the same. I also realized that I wanted to protect her from leering eyes. While I can appreciate the beautiful body of a young teen, I don't want any creep using my daughter or any other woman or child as an object to fulfill his fantasies.

I can't always be there to protect her and to take care of her. She has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me to do that. All I can do is pray that God will guide her and that the lessons she has learned in her 16 years will help her to make good choices and wise decisions.

We don't go to the mall too often anymore. She usually goes with her friends. I kind of miss those times so maybe I'll suggest a trip out there one of these days. I'll have to prepare myself for the trip (see #83 of May 20 blog).

And I hear that the fashion gods are designing longer shirts and baggier pants. One can only hope.