I never thought that I was pretty. I was never told that I was pretty by anyone as a child. I was the smart one. The athletic one. I had a great personality. So, I used sex as to get me the attention that my looks never did. I look back on my teenage years with great disdain. I hated them because, for all my talents on the basketball court, volleyball court, softball field, and in the classroom, I still had a low self-esteem. I was very promiscuous and, like Romeo, confused sex and love.

I met my husband when I was 18- my first year in college. We had great talks and he quickly became my confidante. I was dating someone else who told me on numerous occasions that I was “alright” but not pretty. So when my Drew told me that I was pretty, I was ready for marriage. OK, not really, but let’s just say that I was floored. Luckily, we spent 6 years building a very strong relationship before getting married, so I know that his claim of “You’re beautiful” was not the only reason that we stayed together.

I tell my daughter she is beautiful everyday. I tell her she is smart too, but I make sure that I tell her that she is beautiful. My husband does too, and I know that this will be one of the reasons that she will grow up with a healthy dose of confidence. I am a firm believer that if parents help build a child’s self-esteem, that child will avoid falling into the traps of teenage life. I know that if my parents told me that I was attractive, I would not have grown up feeling awkward. I would not have looked for affirmation of my attractiveness in seedy and worthless men. I would have already known.

My daughter will know.