Why I Let My 9 Year Old Watch Miley Cyrus

I can’t believe I’m joining in on the bandwagon of posts about last night’s abysmal performance by Miley Cyrus and her so-called “twerking“. But I am. At first, I patted myself on the back for successfully preventing my daughter from watching the VMAs for yet another year. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted her to see the scantily clad former Disney queen parading around making a complete ass of herself.

And so I played her a clip of last night’s performance. 

And my daughter’s reaction was exactly what I’d hoped it would be…

She was horrified and a bit uncomfortable, her mouth agape in disgust and confusion.

She said, “THAT’S Miley Cyrus???”

Then we had a lovely “teaching moment” about how being wild and crazy in your twenties is kind of what your twenties are for – but that it all comes down to personal choice. We all have the ability to make our own decisions about how we treat our bodies and how we view ourselves. In the end, she seemed sad for Miley. And that of course made me happy that she had understood my twisted lesson. I’m not a prude, but for the love of all that is holy – I did not need to see that bump and grind fiasco. And while I’m at it – shame on you Robin Thicke for participating in such gratuitous ratings-grabbing.

On a much lighter note, she was desperate to see what her idols had worn and if they too had made a spectacle of themselves. And it was my great pleasure to tell her that they looked gorgeous and very 20-something and had behaved like typical young women. They danced and laughed and partied with their friends. And they totally kept their dignity intact and (thankfully) their clothes on.

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