My 8-Year-Old Daughter Made Me a Feminist

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As my 8-year-old daughter, Lily, tossed a football with her dad, another dad strolled by and commented on her impressive skills. It was unclear if he was surprised because she was a girl, but the implication was there. After this “compliment,” I heard my husband say, “Yeah, she has two brothers.” Instantly, I felt a pang. The suggestion that Lily’s talent was noteworthy because she’s a girl, and the idea that it somehow came from her brothers, struck a nerve that I didn’t realize existed until I became a mother.

Growing up, I faced different expectations than my brother did. While my parents often cautioned me about potential dangers, they rarely shared those same concerns with him. As a young woman, I understood I would likely earn less than my male peers and experienced unwanted attention while walking to work. The disparity didn’t bother me as much back then—I accepted it as part of life. But the more I reflect, the more I realize how often I heard about my looks and how seldom I was praised for my achievements.

I always acknowledged the inequalities women faced, but they weren’t the focus of my life. I didn’t feel compelled to fight against these injustices or allow them to shape my career path. I was no Gloria Steinem.

Then I gave birth to a daughter.

Sure, I’ll probably warn Lily to be careful more often than I do for my son, Jake. I know I’ll be more protective of her because society tells me to be. But I also want to empower her. I’ll teach her that she can excel in any field—be it arts, science, politics, or sports. I want her to know that when someone praises her with a hint of surprise, she can simply respond with “thank you” or “I’ve been practicing,” without feeling the need to explain herself.

I’m not oblivious to the fact that growing up with brothers can help a girl improve her skills—just like any younger sibling can benefit from older siblings. But let’s be real, not all boys are into sports, and not every girl is a doll enthusiast. You can’t force a child into a mold based on their gender, and you certainly can’t claim someone else’s accomplishments as your own. I doubt that fathers of boys ever feel the need to qualify their sons’ athletic talent.

Lily can throw and catch a football because she practices, not because she has brothers. Her abilities stand on their own merit, and I have no doubt about that.

I tend to avoid heavy labels and politics, but if teaching my wonderful, strong, artistic, athletic, and undeniably cute daughter these important lessons makes me a feminist, then I’m all in.

And if you want to learn more about parenting and home insemination, check out this insightful post on intracervical insemination or learn more about pregnancy at Women’s Health. For those exploring the option of home insemination, Make a Mom offers a comprehensive guide.

In summary, my journey into feminism didn’t come from a textbook; it emerged through the experiences of raising my daughter. It’s a realization that shapes how I guide her in a world that still has its inequalities.