Friday, December 13, 2013

Being An Individual

Miss 12 year old Maddy had a "Social" last week. We don't call them disco's anymore, "No Mum, it's a Social, get it straight."

Social I guess because our girls head over to the brother Catholic Boys school a few suburbs over to cluster in their lunch groups and stare at the opposite sex and giggle. A lot.

She only gets x2 of these a year which is GREAT. From my perspective anyway. Between spending all her free hours at dancing and an all girls school, the boy problem should hopefully be put off for a few years.

The days leading up to the event were painful a collaborative effort at finding just the right outfit. Her bedroom floor was littered with a million rejects, and she finally settled on a flashy pair of tights and her favourite blue top. No matter what, I thought she looked lovely, but I also thought she looked lovely in the dress, skirt and jeans she abandoned. My overall vote was for the dress. It's Summer and it's a Social. Seems like a good occasion for a dress to me.

When I picked Maddy up from the social I noticed most of the girls were wearing pretty dresses and skirts. But when I commented I got the worlds most dirty look and a voice dripping with disdain.

"Oh, I didn't WANT to look like everyone else Mum, I wanted to be an individual."

Well, I guess that's awesome. We love her being an individual. Being an individual means she has been wearing x2 different socks to dancing lessons everyday for the last year and doesn't care at all.

But then she followed with:

"ALL my friends wore tights, we didn't want to look like everyone else."

Wait, all your friends wore tights? So you actually mean you wanted to dress just like your friends, not actually be different? I mean, that's OK too, but it's not quite the same thing as being an individual.

She groaned at me. "You don't even know what it means to be an individual Mum. OK?"

I guess not. My daughter, the individual. Just like her friends.

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