An open letter to my hypothetical daughter on why I will not call her "Princess."

Dear Harper,

I want to tell you something now. I know that you may never exist, but I feel like I need to get it out.

I need to break it to you: I won't be calling you Princess.

Yes, I know I can't control what you are interested in. I know. Your brother Jameson, now 2 1/2, loves BYU basketball and won't root for anyone else. ("Say 'go Utes!'" "No, just BYU.") This inspires so many deep sighs and so much time spent wondering how I will break it to your grandpa. So I know you might be a big Disney princess fan. And that is okay.

Secondly, I know that you actually are a princess, because you are the spirit daughter of a king, meaning God. And so is every other girl and woman IN THE WORLD. This does make you valuable, but it also makes everyone else on earth just as valuable.

It all happened when I read this article in Forbes. Giving girls strictly appearance-focused compliments and telling them what special princesses they are has always bothered me, but mostly because I feel awkward when unattractive children are told they're beautiful. Call me mean, but why lie? Why not just find some other stuff they're good at and give genuine compliments? Why is being beautiful the most important thing?

But the more I think about it, the more I realize, yes, doing this would actually damage your future. I'm not talking about allowing your to watch Tangled or play with Cinderella dolls. I'm talking about telling you that you ARE one of those characters.

Think about what a princess is portrayed as in these stories:

1. The most beautiful
2. More important than everyone else
3. Rules an entire kingdom
4. Is given everything without working, suffering, or going without

Can we now debunk those, one by one?

Firstly, a princess is the most beautiful. (Have you seen actual princesses? Not true.) Even if I believe that you are the most beautiful, (and what parents doesn't believe their children are the most beautiful, let's be honest) what a little bitty will you be when you get to school and start telling everyone you're the prettiest and acting like you're the prettiest? You have seen the little girls that look up at an adult just expecting that compliment about how adorable they are. It's not their fault. The world has been programming these little divas for generations and it needs to stop. We adults do hold some power.

Secondly, a princess is more important than everyone else. This is inherently flawed. First of all, a real princess serves her subjects. But as it concerns you, read this. I think it's very healthy for parents to tell their children that they are special...TO THEM. And I'll be doing that plenty. But no kid should be raised with the mentality that she is more special or important than anyone else. Hello entitled, hello inability to deal with rejection or failure, hello inability to make friends.

Thirdly, a princess rules an entire kingdom. Girl, you do not rule here in my house. Heck, this is not even a democracy. Sure, you're my child, I love you, and I want to hear about your thoughts and concerns and wishes and hopes. I do. They will be taken into consideration and validated. You will feel safe and heard. But you do not get a vote. I get a vote. Your dad gets a vote. The end. If it's more important to Dad than it is to me, he might get two votes. But regardless, there are only two people voting here, and you are not one of them.

Fourth, is given everything without working, suffering, or going without. I want you to be feel like you can achieve what you want, but I think my generation got pushed a little too hard toward this confidence. So far, in fact, that we overshot a little bit and were made to think we deserved, say, a high paying job with a company-paid iPhone right out of college, where we earned some history degree or something because it was our "passion," giving no thought for what would actually earn us a living, and no requirement to pay back our student loans. We've got these problems because our parents made us this way. They told us we were the prettiest princesses ever and also the most special and that we could have anything we want. But we can't! We just can't. So I hope that as parents, my generation can do a better job of keeping your feet on the ground. You'll work for your allowance to buy that toy. You'll do chores. Learn basic life skills. Be responsible for your stuff. Understand the disappointment of not being able to have everything you want, and learn to be okay with that.

I tell you this because I want to give you the skills and confidence to be self-reliant, to have perseverance, to try new things and to love and serve others - all beautiful traits - because I know you are strong and special (just like everyone else) and a loved daughter of God.

I hope to meet you in the coming years. Your brothers will love you, but beware, they show their love by wrestling and head-butting. You'll develop a thick skin at a young age. Your dad and I will love you. You'll have daddy-daughter dates. We'll bake together, do our nails together. There are lots of hugs and kisses in our house. Lots of playing and lots of laughing. You'll love it here, and we will love you! But we won't call you Princess. I hope that works for you, cuz that's how I roll.

Love,
Mom