At one time or another, every one of my four daughters has asked me the question, “Who is your favourite daughter?” My answer is always the same – I don’t have a favourite. Which is, naturally, a lie. But also the truth.
Before unpacking that thought, it’s worth considering the importance (if there is any) of being thought of as “the favourite” – whether favourite child, favourite parent or even favourite spouse (if you’ve been unduly liberal with your marriage vows).
The last two of these categories are easily clarified. If you are the favourite parent of one of your children, then you are foolish if you think it counts for much (a favourite parent may simply be the worst parent, that one most incapable of keeping discipline). Your favourite spouse is the one you are married to.
But is it OK to have a favourite child? This question is perhaps misconceived – because whether it is “OK” or not, it is something most of us will feel at some time, however inappropriate our better selves deem it to be.
I always deny having a favourite when asked by my children because any such answer, however qualified, is certain to be misinterpreted. Because parents, like children, are fickle, and such an answer is given to change over time and circumstance. But even if it doesn’t, having a favourite child is a shallow thing. In the same way that a favourite parent may simply be the one who is the most tractable, the favourite child is often the one who causes the least anxiety and difficulty.
They may also be the child most inclined to give you the most consistent presentations of love or approval. If you do entertain a favourite, even temporarily, it may not have anything to do with the child’s intrinsic virtues or qualities, any more than you choose someone to be a friend rather than an acquaintance – not because they are better people, but because they will more readily to adapt to your personality.
It may sound like I am wriggling a bit here on the horns of a dilemma and not being entirely frank. Perhaps that is true. I am sure I know, for instance, when one of my children prefers their mother to their father and it is not always a matter of tractability, but the amount of effort the parent puts into establishing intimacy. However, as a man, I am slightly at a disadvantage when trying to establish intimacy as the gender gap operates, most particularly in the teenage years (none of my daughters have ever come to ask me about, say, menstrual issues, bra fittings or boyfriend problems).
Doubtless it feels good to be the favoured child – although I wouldn’t know, as I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. My two more attractive, personable and better behaved brothers were (in my mind) the clear favourites. I suspect this has had an effect on the development of my personality – an enduring need for approval and praise perhaps. But although I doubt my parents liked me more than my brothers (and I expect they had good reason), I am certain they did not love me any less. This is why I say it is both a lie and true to say that as a parent you have favourite children.
There are children who you may have fewer problems with. But that is not really the same as having a favourite, because the love is equal. Loving and liking are qualitatively different. My daughters are all a delight and a trial in separate ways and to different degrees. But in the matter of love, there really is no distinction. They may feel the situation to be otherwise, from time to time. But they would be wrong. A parent’s love for their child is unlike almost any other phenomena that child will experience as they grow up. It is outside comparison. It is without measure. And it is indiscriminate.
