She came to me tonight and asked if she should be a model when she grows up.
This little girl, the one who wants to ride horses and save animals. The one who wants to travel the world in search of dinosaur and mammoth bones. She wants to know if she can be a model as well. A friend of ours suggested it, and she wondered if she should consider it. I’m guessing she never thought she was beautiful enough, even though I tell her. All. The. Time.
Now, I’m her mother so I’m kind of biased, but I really do think she’s beautiful. Ethereal, regal, and angelic are words that come to mind when I look at her. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, her long legs and tanned skin, she could be the quintessential beach babe or a modern day princess.
But could she be a model?
Perhaps. Probably. Especially when she lets her beautiful long hair down and acts her silly self. Oh yes, she could be a model.
And yet I hope that she doesn’t choose a life of modelling. I would like to think that the dream she holds of saving animals, of teaching children to ride horses, of discovering Diplodocus and Gallimimus bones, I would like to think that they will become more than just a dream. I hope she does something with her life that she is passionate about, that will make her happy, that will bring joy, that will increase her thirst for knowledge.
I won’t lie – I really don’t want her to become a model. She is so much more than just exterior beauty. She has so much love and passion for all things living. I hope she does something with that passion. I’d rather her digging in the dirt for giant femurs in China or outback Australia than starving herself to look good in a frock. I’d rather her teaching others to love and appreciate horses the way she does. Don’t get me wrong, I will be proud of her no matter what she does, but I hope it’s doing something that she’s passionate about, and not something that she falls into simply based on her looks.
She has so much to offer the world, and I know the world really will be a much better place because of her.