To be a Thought Daughter
The Blog of a Bookseller (or maybe I should say a Thought Daughter)
The TikTok Algorithm keeps filling my FYP with 'Thought Daughter' content paired with music like Family Line by Conan Gray and I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski, which, when added to my preexisting interest in books on TikTok, has provided me with Thought Daughter Reading Lists. I was intrigued, partly by the concept of a thought daughter and by the fact that the books on these lists were often books I enjoyed reading myself—through this, I deciphered that I must be a thought daughter, whatever that was.
According to the World Wide Web, a Thought Daughter is a woman or girl who tends to overthink everything. This term also incorporates the anxiety, depression, and OCD many young women have, no longer the cute little girls with wide eyes and pigtails that exist to please their parents (particularly their father - or patriarchal figure in their lives) but women who feel the weight of a broken society upheld by patriarchy on their shoulders.
At the centre of this discussion of 'Thought Daughter' is her characterisation of her tendency to deeply analyse her surroundings, experiences and relationships with those around her. The term originated from a derogatory 2021-2022 TikTok trend where people asked, 'Would you rather have a gay son or a thot daughter?' as a supposedly challenging hypothetical. This trend was forefronted by men who deemed both options as an undesirable outcome of their fragile masculinity and unfounded hatred for anyone who wasn't straight or male.
This trend is offensive to women and LGBTQIA+ people. It shows how those who exist in the accepted existence are unable to grasp the difficulty of existing outside what the patriarchy deems acceptable. It is tone-deaf. For those who don't know the root of the word 'Thot', it is millennial slang for a promiscuous woman or a woman who is sexually liberated. It's a profoundly misogynistic term, which is an acronym for 'That H-e Over There', first seen on Urban Dictionary in 2012.
It is through linguistic tinkering and clever wordplay that the women of social media transformed 'thot' into 'thought', neutralising the initial slur while also shedding light on the profound impact of societal pressures and mental health challenges faced by countless individuals.
But what are Thought Daughter Books?
According to MEMEMORIES on benable, who created a page for 'book recommendations for the thought daughter', they define it as 'a carefully curated collection of literature aimed at nurturing the intellect and imagination of young women. [...] a diverse selection of novels, essays, and poetry chosen specifically to stimulate critical thinking, foster empathy, and inspire personal growth.'
It's fascinating to notice books I often read that I see no connection between finding themselves connected in this way - as if it's provided an answer to a question I've long had, which is why these books?
Over the past three years alone, I have embarked on a journey of self-discovery through my reading. I have jumped from wholesome reads such as She and Her Cat by Makoto Shinkai and Naruki Nagakawa to heartbreaking non-fiction with The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath to certified 'weird girl fiction' with Bunny by Mona Awad. This diverse reading journey has kept me intrigued and engaged, but I still needed clarification about why my reading metronome swings wildly between the two ends of the spectrum. I have found it strange to jump between different genres and styles of writing for no reason except a gut feeling telling me I need to read these books and devour them in hopes of finding an answer.
It wasn't until the Thought Daughter Trend on TikTok came about that I finally had a name for it - this is why language and linguistics fascinate me so much. If it wasn't for the women online who saw the degrading sexist and homophobic trend a few years ago, before I even downloaded TikTok myself, and decided to play on the phonetic similarity between 'thot' and 'thought,' creating a new character type: the 'thought daughter', then I might still have been at a lost to describe my reading preference - or my preferences in general.
Seeing Thought Daughters being recognised and acknowledged online when I felt alone in this way of thinking for so long, has created a sense of camaraderie. It has fostered a space where vulnerability and authenticity are accepted and celebrated, making us all feel included and understood.
Art: 'Ophelia', Sir John Everett Millais, Bt, 1851–2