Mariel is an intelligent and sassy 2-year-old. She’s also my niece, and I love her dearly. Each time I see her, there’s a new development in her personality, a new mantra she repeats, a new moment of laughter. Here’s a recent little moment that makes me smile:

Mariel and I push our foreheads together, staring straight into each other’s eyes. We’re laughing. She touches my nose ring and asks what it is (this isn’t the first time she’s inquired, but I go with it).

“It’s a nose ring,” I state.

Her go-to response, typical of a 2-year-old:

“Why.”

“Because I want it,” I respond with a smile.

“I like it,” she says.

“I do too.”

“I like your nose,” she continues.

“I like your mouth.

“I like your chin.

“I like your mole.” She points to the birthmark on my forehead.

“I like your fingers.

“I like your thumb.”

* * *

A 2-year-old’s playful compliments often seem to hold more weight than any other’s. How often have we criticized ourselves? Many times I’ve spoken unkind words to myself. About the prominence of my nose. The jutting of my strong chin. The masculinity of my hands. And yet, these features are favored by an honest source (we all know how children have no filter; they invariably verbalize exactly what they’re thinking). For the most part, I’ve conditioned myself to find no fault with these features. But it definitely takes practice, and I’m not infallible.

So whenever my eye starts to look through a demeaning lens of criticism, often elicited by comparing myself to others, I think it fruitful to adapt the lens of a child: with wonder, embracing uniqueness, and finding favor in what is. After all, there is beauty in loving how imperfectly perfect we are. It’s important to set a solid example for the little ones growing up in a world inundating them with messages of criticism and a push for “perfection.”

* * *

I then tell Mariel, “You’re my friend.”

“No,” she says. “I’m Mariel.”

“But you’re also my friend!”

Later that day, Mariel kisses my mom’s arm. “You’re a lover,” her grandma says.

“No,” Mariel responds.

“Auntie said I’m a friend.”

Here I raise my metaphorical glass to unfiltered compliments. To uniqueness.

To love.

peace & love,

smb