Words From a Father to His Daughter (From the Makeup Aisle)

Q: Where are you the most beautiful? A: On the inside. A 10th anniversary edition of the letter loved by millions.

Ten years ago this week, my daughter and I appeared on the TODAY Show.

Our visit to 30 Rock was the culmination of the most improbable month of our lives. I shared the backstory in my book Loveable:

The second time I wrote a letter to Caitlin, I was standing in a makeup aisle. Several weeks earlier, a friend had texted me from a different makeup aisle. He had a young daughter too, and he said he was disturbed by the many messages about beauty surrounding him there. He said it felt oppressive. I wanted to understand what he was feeling, so I visited a beauty aisle myself.

As I stood in the aisle, I knew exactly what he was feeling.

Again, I imagined Caitlin, a decade older, standing in the same aisle, absorbing all the messages suggesting her worthiness is dependent on her prettiness. I wanted to challenge the voices of the beauty industry with the voice of a father, telling her that beauty isn’t something she starts putting on her face in adolescence; it’s something that was put into her soul from the very beginning. I wanted her to know worthiness isn’t something you buy in a store; it’s something you discover within yourself.

So I sat down in the aisle, pulled out my laptop, and wrote Caitlin a second letter.

That letter went so viral I got a call from NBC.

Now, unbelievably, she is actually a decade older.

A couple of weeks ago, she wore makeup to her last middle school dance. Yesterday, we finished binge-watching Seinfeld together. This summer, the two of us will spend one of our four remaining summers together on the golf course. She’s old enough now to say things like “I don’t care for your input right now,” and I’m seasoned enough to respect that.

Still, I suspect she’s never too old to be reminded that our deepest and most enduring beauty can be found on the inside of us. I suspect none of us are.

So, here’s that letter from a decade ago, exactly as it appeared then, and as it appears in Loveable…

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Dear Little One,

As I write this, I’m sitting in the makeup aisle of our local Target store. A friend recently texted me from a different makeup aisle and told me it felt like one of the most oppressive places in the world. I wanted to find out what he meant. And now that I’m sitting here, I’m beginning to agree with him. Words have power, and the words on display in this aisle have a deep power. Words and phrases like:

Affordably gorgeous,

Infallible,

Flawless finish,

Brilliant strength,

Liquid power,

Go nude,

Age defying,

Instant age rewind,

Choose your dream,

Nearly naked, and

Natural beauty.

When you have a daughter you start to realize she’s just as strong as everyone else in the house—a force to be reckoned with, a soul on fire with the same life and gifts and passions as any man. But sitting in this store aisle, you also begin to realize most people won’t see her that way. They’ll see her as a pretty face and a body to enjoy. And they’ll tell her she has to look a certain way to have any worth or influence.

But words do have power and maybe, just maybe, the words of a father can begin to compete with the words of the world. Maybe a father’s words can deliver his daughter through this gauntlet of institutionalized shame and into a deep, unshakeable sense of her own worthiness and beauty.

A father’s words aren’t different words, but they are words with a radically different meaning:

Brilliant strength. May your strength be not in your fingernails but in your heart. May you discern in your center who you are, and then may you fearfully but tenaciously live it out in the world.

Choose your dream. But not from a department store shelf. Find the still-quiet place within you. A real dream has been planted there. Discover what you want to do in the world. And when you have chosen, may you faithfully pursue it, with integrity and with hope.

Naked. The world wants you to take your clothes off. Please keep them on. But take your gloves off. Pull no punches. Say what is in your heart. Be vulnerable. Embrace risk. Love a world that barely knows what it means to love itself. Do so nakedly. Openly. With abandon.

Infallible. May you be constantly, infallibly aware that infallibility doesn’t exist. It’s an illusion created by people interested in your wallet. If you choose to seek perfection, may it be in an infallible grace—for yourself, and for everyone around you.

Age defying. Your skin will wrinkle and your youth will fade, but your soul is ageless. It will always know how to play and how to enjoy and how to revel in this one-chance life. May you always defiantly resist the aging of your spirit.

Flawless finish. Your finish has nothing to do with how your face looks today and everything to do with how your life looks on your last day. May your years be a preparation for that day. May you be aged by grace, may you grow in wisdom, and may your love become big enough to embrace all people. May your flawless finish be a peaceful embrace of the end and the unknown that follows, and may it thus be a gift to everyone who cherishes you.

Little One, you love everything pink and frilly and I will surely understand if someday makeup is important to you. But I pray three words will remain more important to you—the last three words you say every night, when I ask the question: “Where are you the most beautiful?” Three words so bright no concealer can cover them.

Where are you the most beautiful?

On the inside.

From my heart to yours,

Daddy

Excerpts from Loveable by Kelly Flanagan. Copyright (c) 2017 by Kelly Flanagan. Published by Zondervan, Grand Rapids, MI. www.Zondervan.com

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