“Look! Your freckles are coming out!” I say excitedly. I get them too, and I selfishly love seeing the little glimpses of me in her. Is it selfish that I need proof of my self within my children? Is it a “job well done” on procreation that we all crave?
“But Mommy, I don’t like my freckles.” She looks deep into my eyes with her pleading and questioning stare.
This is the first time she has ever expressed something to not like on herself.
My mind begins to race…
“We’ve never been critical of her!”
“She is perfect! How could she not like her precious freckles?!”
“They are part of what make her uniquely herself!”
“How do children learn to not like themselves when all they have known is love?!”
“What if this self-hatred is what she got from me…not just the freckles…?”

This stops me in my tracks. I am always so careful to not criticize myself in any way in front of her…only constantly in my brain…most moments of most days…but never out loud and never even a critical glance in the mirror do I allow to be done in front of the girls.

Sadly, I know all too well the intense scrutiny and disdain that causes someone to find the smallest thing and make themselves feel small and worthless with one passing thought or look. Things that no one on earth would ever notice yet could spiral me into a pit of despair.

My daughter and I have always been deeply connected—from the moment she came earthside, we almost seemed to share brain waves. Most days, I know immediately what she is thinking or feeling, because we share many personality quirks and facial mannerisms that make it very apparent. It broke my heart to hear that perhaps we were almost too connected…

So, I leaned into her. Because, if she is anything like me, I knew that telling her that her freckles were beautiful and perfect would be useless. Her mind was set and there would be no changing it.

I asked her why she did not like them. She didn’t know exactly why—just that she didn’t like the way they looked.

Why is it human nature to pick away at ourselves? Each of the small things that we slowly chip away at erodes who we are and erodes the very substance of our being. All the small things are what comprise all that we are—why do we pick away, wish away, critique away all that we were created to be? Many times, the little things are what make life beautiful. The seashell on your shelf that brings up a flood of memories. The picture in your wallet that grounds you and gives you purpose. The fleeting rainbow in the sprinkler on a hot summer day. All of these seemingly small and insignificant moments give life beauty and magic. Why is it engrained in us to strip away our individual magic?

We hugged. I told her I understood and that I was always here for her whenever she needed me. She relaxed into my arms and said “Mom, I am always here for you. Whenever you need me.”

In that moment, I realized that maybe hating our freckles, or the shape of our legs, or an imperfection on our teeth, or a slightly crooked smile…what if those were just the little things that united us? What if the biggest and most important thing is that we love the perfect and the imperfect parts of each other?

Unconditionally.

That makes the little things seem that much smaller and maybe over time, we can reclaim their magic.