Courtesy of Amanda Miller Littlejohn
I have always disliked the term "mini-me" in reference to children. I've always felt it to be a dangerous setup for both parent and child. I know it's an innocent term of endearment, but a child is not meant to be a replica of you — they're another distinct human being with their own preferences, ideas, and feelings.
As a mother of two teenage boys, perhaps I felt even more removed from the idea. I couldn't relate because my children were boys and could never be my mini. But since I had a daughter almost four years ago, I've realized that whether I embrace the term or not, I have a tiny person living in my home who — at least for now — aspires to be just like me.
I've noticed my daughter's eyes scanning me for clues on how she should show up. She looks me over, studies my presentation, and then mimics what she sees. She's at that stage where she wants to do what I do — if I'm typing on my iPad, for example, she grabs her toy version and types along.
She wants to wear what I wear — if I lace on my sneakers instead of my sandals, she runs to put on hers, too. She wants to eat what I eat and drink what I drink, and may or may not have already developed a taste for really good coffee.
I have always been a bit of a maverick, my own individual. I never aspired to be a role model in that way. But she holds up a mirror not only to who I am but who I may be inadvertently modeling for her to become.
If this tiny, impressionable person wants to mimic everything I do, I've had to start asking myself: What exactly am I doing?
Acknowledging her watchful eyes, I realize that my choices matter, so I've intentionally leaned in to displaying more self-love and healthy habits.
For example, I may make a colorful salad and offer her a bite to encourage her to eat more vegetables. Or, if I go for a walk and she wants to tag along, I explain to her that mommy is exercising, so maybe that's something she'll also deem important and want to do, too.
When I'm practicing my French on DuoLingo, I let her get involved. She presses the bright green "continue" buttons at the end of each exercise and adorably tries to sound out the phrases in French.
I've realized it's not so bad having a mini shadowing me. It's a huge responsibility but such an honor and opportunity.
I know that her mimicry isn't limited to her clothing choices or food; she will also see me when I am being kind, loving, and full of grace for others. Maybe she'll aspire to copy those parts of how I show up, too.
Knowing she's watching makes me conscious of the parts of myself I can still improve in real time so that, hopefully, she'll grow up not just like me but better. So, I try my best to be an advocate for myself, set strong boundaries, and practice putting myself first.
Courtesy of Amanda Miller Littlejohn
Aside from influencing how she acts or treats others, having a daughter has made me consider how I'm modeling a woman's relationship to herself.
I don't want to normalize burnout or martyrdom for her — that's a pattern I've seen play out way too often among myself and the women in my family. I have a more expansive vision and a different dream for her. I want her to be the pattern breaker.
I want her to see me being kind to myself instead of hard-driving and perfectionistic. I want her to feel my energy as playful, warm, and loving — not stressed and on edge. I want her to see me reveling in motherhood, not slogging through one day to the next.
I know my example matters, so I make sure she sees me making time for my friends, doing my fancy 7-step skincare routine, and writing my book instead of deferring my dreams until some far-off future date. I also make sure she sees me enjoying my coffee in my expensive porcelain china instead of the chipped promotional mugs.
I want her to see me baking the banana bread for everyone and serving myself a healthy slice, too — not just giving myself the crumbs.
