One day, I decided to take my mom, my sister and my daughter to a restaurant that my daughter has raved about. I had never been and every time she went, it was always her mom who brought her. She loved the food and the atmosphere. And she wanted to share that with us (me). It was a nice place and we were seated right away. Our orders were taken and then we waited. And waited. And waited. I got a little anxious and I started looking around and observed other tables being served even though we had ordered prior. I also sensed my daughter’s agitation and she felt my dissatisfaction. I inquired several times with our server and was eventually told that our order was misplaced. Even though it had nothing to do with her, my daughter internalized it and she felt responsible for the kitchen’s delay. She didn’t want me to have a bad experience. But all her apprehension evaporated when the meal finally came. It was good. Service was good. And the experience ended well. I also got a hands-on lesson at how weighty and impressionable my subtle demeanor can have on my daughter.

Confirmed by research, in my own anecdotal experiences, I have found that girls (and women no matter how successful they are), put their achievements and happiness through a dad filter. Some research confirms that even in cases of neglectful and abusive fathers, this hunger for approval is even greater and central to her ability to relate to other men, and perhaps ultimately, choosing a partner.

I’m no psychologist and beyond recognizing that I am the template my daughter will use to measure all other men, I do know that I treat my daughter differently than if she were a boy: I talk to her more and share my thoughts more freely, so she understands me. And in turn, it helps her demystify the male psyche. In a way, how men treat their daughters become the watermark that daughters can use to gauge their self-worth. This has a lifelong impact—not on your life, but hers. So when I give feedback, I am especially careful about separating reaction to her from my reaction to a thing. I try to follow just three principles.

 

While every conversation I have with my daughter isn’t always scripted and some I’m not even proud of, I try to have more encouraging moments and words than not. Because while she may not remember all the words of encouragement from me, she will not forget the negative ones.

 

I don’t judge her based on physical appearance. I’ve long stopped saying girls are pretty and pink. I’ve long stopped putting my daughter in a dress and haven’t done so since her kindergarten days. And I’ve long stopped buying her dolls. The perspective I generally take is that I’m just raising a child, not a girl. So, if my child needs a glue gun, I buy it. If my child needs a manicure, then I take her when I go for my pedicure.

I celebrate her mind. I want my child to be curious to grow up to ask questions; not have all the answers. I encourage her to have hobbies and interests that do not fall along gender lines. I also taught her to play chess so can think strategically, plan and make choices and trade-offs. And at the end of the day, I am more interested in her intellect and creativity; less so in the results. Curious people ask questions. Questions lead to explorations. And that leads to greater understanding.

I applaud her failures. Nobody does anything right the first time. Anything worth achieving will take time and much effort. Any set-backs, are just temporary off-ramps. Rejection, hardship and injustice should not be shunned but embraced as teaching moments. And the taste of bitterness always leads to the sweetness of success. I also told my daughter that I am on the road to success, but I am only here because I have recovered from many, many mistakes that I still see in my rearview.

Over time, our every word, expression and reaction become the standard our daughters will use to assess her own acceptability to things. And sometimes, it’s not the words we speak, but the moments we remain silent that speaks more loudly. Every interaction we have with our daughters has the potential to etch into her mind. And while every conversation I have with mine isn’t always scripted and some I’m not even proud of, I try to have more encouraging moments and words than not. Because while she may not remember all the words of encouragement from me, she will not forget the negative ones.