I am extremely fortunate and grateful to have grown up under the parents I have. So when I say, “I’m never going to _______ to/for/with/on my kids,” it doesn’t have anything to do with rebellion. In fact, I feel pretty good about the way my brother and I turned out, so if anything, I’m going to be emulating a lot of what they did.

My parents treated me like a child when I was a child, an adolescent when I was an adolescent, and an adult when I became an adult.

How ya like that haircut?

How ya like that haircut?

I was in one beauty pageant when I was five years old, and this photo is from that pageant. No makeup, no high heels, not even tulle. That’s not to say I didn’t want that stuff – I still remember that the girl who won, Kendra Honeycutt, wore shimmery lip gloss and lots of tulle. I was green with envy. But my parents knew I was a little girl, and they dressed me like one.

When I was in high school, I wasn’t allowed to car-date until I was 16. Even though my “boyfriends” were from¬† church, I wasn’t allowed to go out with a boy in a car until I could drive myself home. And I always had to be home at a reasonable hour.

I’m really thankful my parents raised me that way. I see a lot of little girls now who look like their aspirations are entirely toward harlotry. But it’s not their fault, usually because their parents are treating six-year-olds like eighteen-year-olds.

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