I asked myself what I am doing to protect my own children from predators. Sure, I can start forbidding sleepovers. I can tell my kids that their body is theirs alone and no one is entitled to it. But what messages am I unwittingly sending them about how much they can trust me when they are hurt?
To a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
Society tends to impress upon our girls that they are supposed to act a certain way to be respected and look a certain way to be considered worthy. I don’t concern myself very much anymore with what people think of my daughter. I don’t have that luxury. My only concern is how she views herself.
I struggle with knowing just how much of my son's personality I need to let develop on its own and what parts of it I should nip in the bud. I want him to remain a carefree little boy, but I know he won't. And as he makes the hazard-frought journey into manhood, Daddybeard and I will have to equip him for the world we brought him into.