I was in the bathroom just now pinning up my hair yet again. I’ve got the kind of hair that stays in a particular way for all of half an hour and then it starts to revert to its original state. I guess I should stop forcing it and let it do its own thing, but then I’d look like a cave woman. Anyway, standing in front of the mirror a thought occurred to me. Do I want my daughter to learn her fashion sense from me?
Not really. Actually no. My fashion sense is non-existent. I wear whatever I want, it is always appropriate. I’m not the kind that shows cleavage or any amount of skin. Sometimes I’m too covered up, I think. But I would be uncomfortable showing of too much.
Now I guess I’m major broody. Thinking about what to do so my daughter turns out more comfortable with her body than I am. I don’t want to pass my insecurities on to her. Who knows if I’ll even have a daughter. I’m not even close to pregnant yet. I think I’m losing it. Everything I do, I always have a thought of how this will impact on my future child. Everything I eat, the things I do, the way I pin up my hair, the way we furnish our house. Our future child is always at the back of my mind. The child is not even here yet. I think this is getting too much. Even when he/she is here, I do not want to lose my identity and being me. I don’t want to change.