” Without thinking, I instinctively responded, “Actually, I didn’t, because my parents didn’t raise a whore.” I was raised in a devoutly Christian home in which provocative clothing and behavior was forbidden, and dating wasn’t even a consideration.My boss has been acting weird/standoffish towards me since I made this comment, and understandably so. This is problematic on multiple levels, including that you shouldn’t be calling teenage girls “whores” for expressing a perfectly age-appropriate, culture-appropriate interest in dating.But he is also a devout Christian (we’ve discussed this many times), not to mention my boss. Actually, you shouldn’t be calling them “whores” even if it weren’t age-appropriate or culture-appropriate.That’s a horrible thing to say about another person — sexist, punitive, and demeaning, and another person’s sexuality is none of your business — and I hope you’ll take this as a flag to rethink whatever thought pattern led you there. Today she’s crawling around the house in diapers, tomorrow you’re handing her the keys to the car, and before you know it, you’re walking her down the aisle. **9/15/11**This post has resonated so well with daughters and fathers, mothers and grandfathers, and has received many beautiful and heartfelt comments.
Throughout history it has often been the role of the father to enforce his daughter’s chastity, which heralds back to times when she was viewed as property to be sold, because if she wasn’t a virgin she’d be considered worthless (Note: there are cultures where this is still practiced). This doesn’t mean I don’t have an important role as her father.He spends his days practicing the arts of fatherhood and husbandry, while attempting to be a man of God and a professional raiser of philanthropic funds. She needs her dad to be involved in her life at every stage. On the rare occasion he’s not tied up with the aforementioned and other pursuits of awesomeness, he enjoys fighting street gangs for local charities and drinking from a cup that’s half full. Treat her mother with respect, honor, and a big heaping spoonful of public displays of affection. I remember when he was six and she was three, and they’d fight, like siblings do, and she’d come flying at him and there was nothing he could do to stop her. That’s because he’s kind and restrained, but also because she just won’t quit.