If I have a kid someday, I want it to be a daughter.
If I have a kid someday, I want it to be a daughter. This thought may surprise some, especially given my upbringing surrounded by sisters and no male figures to speak of. Growing up in such an environment, one might assume I’d yearn for something different — a son, perhaps. But life has a way of shaping our desires in unexpected ways, and as I’ve matured, my perspective has shifted dramatically.
I am of the opinion that “People shouldn’t have kids”. You might wonder why I’m even contemplating parenthood, given my strong belief that not everyone should have children. Frankly, it’s a sentiment born from observing too many unprepared parents. It’s not my place to judge others’ life choices, yet it’s hard to ignore the reality that not everyone is cut out for the role. Despite this, the urge to reproduce is woven deeply into the human condition. Most of us feel a pull towards bringing new life into the world, even amidst concerns about overpopulation. I mean, we are in a population crisis.
8 Billion and counting. sheesh.
So, why a daughter?
I believe that having a daughter would fundamentally change me for the better. It’s not about continuing family names or expecting her to be a certain way but about the person I hope to become. From what I’ve seen and felt, women often embody kindness and are more naturally caring.
In a world brimming with harshness, these are qualities I admire and desire to nurture at home. I’ve noticed these traits in the way I interact with my nieces and my friends’ daughters. There’s an ease and joy in these interactions, whether we’re playing ‘pretend’ or enjoying a cup of ‘fake tea’. Their simple, heartfelt play and boundless imagination draw me in and highlight a gentleness in myself that I wish to cultivate further.
I’m not looking to become a parent who smothers their child with material things or excessive pampering. Instead, I feel I could offer guidance and emotional support. I want to be there for her challenges and achievements, helping her navigate through life with a strong sense of self and resilience. I want to learn from her as much as she learns from me, experiencing the world anew through her eyes.
The desire for a son is prevalent in many cultures and families (especially Asian — I would know), but I find myself dreaming of having a daughter. Perhaps it’s a quiet form of rebellion against societal norms, or maybe it’s a deeper recognition of the unique connection I feel with the women I’ve been fortunate enough to know in my life. Their perspective, so distinctly different and refreshing, promises a shift in my view of the world.
Of course, these feelings are nested in the hypothetical. Life has its plans, and the future is notoriously hard to predict. Whether I’m destined to be a parent or not remains to be seen. I mean we do need two people to have a kid. Humans & biology haven’t evolved that far yet.
However, should that day come, I hope to welcome a daughter. I see this not only as an opportunity to grow as an individual but also as a chance to contribute to a world that embraces and promotes compassion and empathy through the next generation.
In a sense, envisioning a daughter is envisioning a better version of myself — softer, more understanding, and actively engaged in nurturing the gentle strength that the world desperately needs. This isn’t just about what she would bring into my life; it’s also about the legacy of kindness I hope to build with her, for her, and in the space around us. And maybe, just maybe, in doing so, we can both be lights in a sometimes dim world.
Maybe the saying is true “I’d die for a son, but I’d kill for a daughter”.
