How I Would Raise My Daughter in Today’s World: Lessons for Strong, Independent Girls

Introduction

If I had a daughter in today’s world, I wouldn’t raise her to be quiet, compliant, or “good.” I would raise her to be strong. I would raise her to be a weapon in a world that so often tries to make women into victims.

I’ve spent years observing, reflecting, and working with young people, and one thing is clear: girls are growing up in a time that demands both resilience and awareness. The dangers are real—whether that’s violence against women, toxic social pressures, or outdated systems that don’t prioritise their wellbeing.

So, what would I do differently if I were raising my own daughter? Here’s how I would prepare her to not only survive but to thrive.

1. Self-Defence Isn’t Optional

The first thing my daughter would learn is that her body is not just something to decorate or protect—it is a tool for survival.

When I was doing kickboxing, my instructor often brought his four-year-old daughter to class. She wasn’t just “playing around” on the mats; she was learning technique, focus, and discipline. She threw punches with serious intent, and when I asked her dad about it, he said something that stuck with me: “She will never be a victim.”

That’s the kind of confidence I want for my daughter. Not false bravado. Not empty toughness. Real, physical capability.

The reality is that the world can be dangerous, especially for women and girls. Self-defence is not just about fighting off attackers; it’s about walking through life with the knowledge that you are not helpless. From a young age, I’d put her in classes—martial arts, boxing, or even something as practical as situational awareness training.

Because the truth is, no one is coming to save her. She must be her own weapon.

2. Men Are Not Guaranteed Protectors

For centuries, the cultural narrative has been that men are the protectors. Husbands, fathers, brothers—their job was to shield women from harm. But in today’s world, that illusion has crumbled.

Did you see the viral video of a girl who accidentally spilled her drink on a man while she was out with her boyfriend? She apologised. Her boyfriend apologised. But the man she spilled it on lashed out—he hit her. And her boyfriend? He stood there. He didn’t step in. It was other women who rushed to her aid.

That story has three important lessons I’d want my daughter to understand:

• Some men are violent predators. They will look for any excuse to exert power and harm.
• Some men who claim to love you will fail you. They might freeze, they might abandon you, or they might simply prioritise themselves in a moment of danger.
• Women are often your strongest allies. Time and time again, women show up for each other when men do not.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying all men are unreliable. I’m married to someone I believe would defend me without hesitation. But the painful truth is, you can’t know which kind of man you have until the moment you need him—and that’s far too late.

So, my daughter wouldn’t be raised to expect men to save her. She’d be raised to save herself.

3. Always Ask “Why?”

Growing up, many of us were shut down when we questioned our parents. The answer was too often, “Because I said so.” But that response doesn’t teach children anything—it only enforces obedience.

I would want my daughter to ask “why?” about everything. Not because I want her to be defiant, but because I want her to understand. Children learn by exploring and questioning. If I tell her no, I should be able to explain why. If I can’t, maybe I need to rethink my stance.

Parenting isn’t about controlling children like puppets; it’s about raising the next generation to be thoughtful, empathetic, capable human beings. A girl who asks “why?” grows into a woman who won’t blindly accept authority, injustice, or societal norms that don’t serve her. And that’s exactly the kind of woman I’d want my daughter to be.

4. Reading Is Non-Negotiable

In a world dominated by screens, algorithms, and instant gratification, I would make sure my daughter understood the quiet power of books.

Early reading is directly linked to academic success, but it’s about more than grades. Books open the mind. They feed imagination, empathy, and the ability to think critically. A child who reads grows into an adult with a brain full of ideas, questions, and possibilities.

Unlike the internet, books carry no real-life dangers. Social media can expose children to bullying, predatory behaviour, or harmful trends. Books, however, are a safe space to explore both the beauty and the darkness of the world—without the same risks.

I’d want my daughter to fall in love with stories, to find herself in fictional characters, and to learn from worlds she might never experience otherwise. Reading isn’t just essential—it’s liberating.

5. School Is Optional, Education Is Not

This might sound contradictory after emphasising the importance of reading and learning, but hear me out: school is not the only path to education.

I work with children who can’t attend mainstream school because of their mental health struggles or specific educational needs. And what I’ve seen is heartbreaking: a system that doesn’t adapt, teachers stretched to breaking point, and children falling through the cracks.

The schooling system in the UK is outdated. It values grades over wellbeing, conformity over creativity, and standardisation over individuality.

If I had the financial means, I would choose home education in a heartbeat. Done properly, home education allows for tailored learning, flexibility, and the ability to prioritise mental health alongside academics. My daughter would learn at her own pace, with space to explore her passions instead of being forced into a one-size-fits-all mould.

School can be a great option for some children, but it should never be seen as the only option. True education can happen anywhere—at home, in the library, out in nature, or through travel and real-world experiences.

6. Her Body, Her Choice — Always

From the smallest decisions, like whether she wants to hug a relative, to the bigger ones, like cutting her hair short or choosing her clothes—my daughter’s body would always be her own.

Too many of us grew up being told to “give Grandma a hug” even if we didn’t want to, or being scolded for wearing something that didn’t fit someone else’s idea of what was appropriate. It may seem harmless, but those little moments teach children that their body exists to please others.

I want my daughter to learn boundaries early. If she says no to physical contact, that no should be respected—by family, by friends, by anyone. If she wants to experiment with her appearance, even if I don’t love her choices, I’d let her. Hair grows back. Clothes can be changed. What matters is that she knows she has the right to make those decisions for herself.

Because when girls grow up knowing that their body belongs to them—not their parents, not society, not their future partners—they carry that confidence into every stage of life. And that belief—that my body is mine—lasts forever.

Conclusion: Raising Daughters for the Real World

Raising a daughter today isn’t about bubble-wrapping her from danger. It’s about preparing her for it.

I would raise my daughter to be strong enough to defend herself, aware enough to know that men are not guaranteed protectors, curious enough to question everything, imaginative enough to lose herself in books, flexible enough to know that learning doesn’t just happen in classrooms, and confident enough to know that her body is hers alone.

The world may not always be kind to girls, but girls raised this way? They’ll be unstoppable.

Because in today’s world, daughters don’t need to be taught to be “good.” They need to be raised to be powerful.