I’m a 30-year-old Flemish guy from Belgium, married to my 28-year-old Chinese wife. We have two sons—one is five, the other just turned one—and she’s pregnant again with our third boy. Physically, I’m blond with blue eyes, while she’s tall, pale-skinned, with black hair and brown eyes. Our first son has brown hair and green eyes, but our second came out blond and blue-eyed, which my wife constantly praises. At first, I thought it was innocent admiration, but her comments haven’t stopped, and now they’re starting to bother me.
She often says things like, “Wouldn’t it be great if this one also had blond hair and blue eyes?” I tried brushing it off, but it started to feel like she was favoring one child’s appearance over the other. So one day, I told her I hoped our third son would have her dark hair and brown eyes. I wanted her to understand how it feels when someone subtly implies one look is better than another. She didn’t take it well and accused me of twisting her words.
She insisted she wasn’t favoring anyone and that I was overreacting. But I know what I heard, and I know how often she’s made those comments. I didn’t say it to hurt her—I said it to make a point. Our kids are beautiful no matter what features they inherit, and I don’t want them growing up thinking one look is superior. Especially when those ideas can stick with them for life. I’ve seen how comparisons can quietly damage a child’s self-worth.
I love my wife, but I won’t let her keep making these remarks unchecked. Our oldest might not have the features she praises, and I worry he’ll internalize that. I want all our kids to feel equally cherished, regardless of eye color or hair shade. Genetics are unpredictable, and beauty isn’t defined by recessive traits. I want our children to grow up proud of who they are, not wishing they looked different to earn more praise.
I’ve read stories from others who were compared to siblings or parents and carried those wounds for years. One Redditor shared how their mom wished they had their dad’s features, making them feel ugly despite admiring their mom’s own beauty. Another said their mom hated their red hair so much she kept it cropped short their entire childhood. These stories echo my fears. I don’t want my kids to feel “less than” because of something they can’t control.
I know my wife might have internalized certain beauty standards growing up, especially if she was compared unfavorably to lighter-featured relatives. But that’s exactly why we need to break the cycle. I want her to see that celebrating diversity in our own family starts with how we speak about our children. Every comment matters. Every child deserves to feel like they’re enough just as they are.
I’m not angry—I’m protective. I want our home to be a place where our kids feel safe, loved, and celebrated for who they are. I’ll love our third son no matter what he looks like, but I hope he resembles his mom. Not just for balance, but to show her that her features are just as beautiful and worthy of admiration. Maybe then she’ll stop chasing a narrow ideal and start embracing the richness of our family’s blend.
So no, I don’t think I was wrong. I think I was honest. And I’ll keep standing up for our kids, even if it means having uncomfortable conversations. Because they’re listening, even when we think they’re not. And I refuse to let them grow up believing they have to look a certain way to be loved more. Not on my watch.
