Hello Friends, 

This is your weekly edition of the Friday Five Hundred. New tagline, who dis? Still me :D.  

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Wearing a checkered blue half sleeve Oxford shirt and blue denim jeans, I gave off Dennis the Menace vibes as an eight-year-old minus the slingshot and spunk. I often wore masculine clothes because stockings would rip easily when I slid down concrete handrails of our courtyard stairs, but jeans wouldn’t. 

Walking with my parents in all my Dennis the Menace glory in a marketplace, a random girl about my age rolled her eyes and said, “Larka kahi ki” (boy wannabe). I gulped, took it in, and walked forward without responding. Remember, I had no slingshot and spunk! 

After that day, I consciously picked more feminine clothes even when they felt less me. I cared about how I was perceived by others, so I let this seep in and inform the way I dressed.

Fast forward to when I became a Mother to a pinkalicious glittery feminine outfits loving daughter, Rihab. Even though it was annoying at times to keep up with this high-maintenance child of mine, I enjoyed her sense of agency over her clothes and the creativity that came forth (Hairbands used as belts and unicorn clips with colorful hair streaming through were in vogue).

One day, she came back from school in a glum mood. She revealed that her classmates told her she dresses like a kindergartner. We had a surface-level discussion about how important it is to do your own thing no matter what opinions others have. She agreed. 

A pattern started to emerge where Rihab consistently wore neutral shades and avoided dresses at all costs. My husband and I asked her numerous times why this was so and she shrugged her shoulders without giving a clear explanation. 

My heart ached at my soon-to-be nine-year-old deciding to fit in over honoring her individuality. How could I tell her that belonging to herself is more important than fitting in?

The scene of me as a little girl dressed in a shirt and pants replayed in my head. I made the decision of fitting in over belonging to myself. That was the start of many such decisions. 

This past week, I shared my story with Rihab. She was inspired to share her story again about being called a kindergartner and how she let that steer her decision into picking clothes that help her fit in as a third grader. 

Instead of giving Rihab any advice, I told her that I understood how the need to fit in is so great, but there is a person inside of us, who will stay with us forever. If we take care of this inner person and her feelings then that need becomes smaller. 

The next day, Rihab picked a dress and wore it to school. She came back in a happy mood and said, “I feel like me.” Rihab jumped towards me and I swooped her in my embrace while wearing a plaid button-down shirt and denim pants, an updated version my eight-year-old would approve of!

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Thank you for reading. The first decade is such a tender time period. I'd love to know if this story reminded you of an early childhood experience when you tried to fit in? I'm grateful when you choose to share your stories with me.

Until next Friday! 

Lots of Love, 

Sana Fayyaz