This Is Why Gender Reveals Make Me Cringe
What if we celebrated the journey, not the label?
It starts with pink frosting or blue balloons.
And somehow ends with a lifetime of assumptions.
It’s commonly called a “gender reveal.”
But really, it’s a genital guess wrapped in a party.
Girl = soft, sweet, obedient.
Boy = strong, wild, confident.
Baby = blank slate? Nah. That cake already picked their personality, their wardrobe, and their entire vibe.
We want to believe we know who this tiny human is, right from the ultrasound.
We want to believe we’re bonding. Preparing. Getting it right.
That’s the emotional appeal of the gender reveal:
A moment of certainty in an uncertain world.
But let’s zoom out for a second...
The Problem Isn’t the Celebration. It’s the Script.
Babies totally deserve celebration. That’s not up for debate.
But when the very first thing we celebrate is their genitals,
what else are we doing?
Because whether we admit it or not, the “reveal” carries weight.
It suggests:
How this child is expected to behave
What toys they’ll “like”
Maybe even:
Who they’re allowed to love
What emotions they’re encouraged to show
Which colors they get, which dreams they chase
And none of that has anything to do with their soul.
That’s not gender.
That’s marketing.
And tradition.
And control.
Spoiler Alert: It’s Not About the Baby
Gender reveals are joyful, meaningful moments.
Because the idea is: if we know the baby’s gender, we can connect with them better. Prepare. Understand them.
But that logic falls apart fast.
Because we’re not actually knowing them—we’re projecting onto them.
We’re guessing who they’ll be based on what’s between their legs,
and throwing a party to celebrate that guess—before they’ve even taken their first breath.
That’s not preparation.
That’s prescription.
What If We Did Something Different?
What if—just what if—we let our kids tell us who they are?
What if instead of a gender reveal, we had a wonder reveal?
What if we said:
“We can’t wait to see who this human becomes.”
“We’re raising someone curious, kind, and free.”
“Unicorns welcome. Stars too.”
Not a gender reveal.
A wonder reveal.
Because this new little human?
They’re not a category.
They’re not a color.
They’re a whole new story waiting to unfold.
A Party with a Purpose
So if you’re already planning a gender reveal—or you’ve done one before—this isn’t shade.
Most people are just trying to mark a moment. Make a memory. Share some joy.
But what if that moment could do even more?
What if, instead of guessing who this new human will be…
we made space to support whoever they become?
Throw the party.
Get the cake.
Make it beautiful.
And maybe—just maybe—instead of just gifts for the baby, guests bring something else:
✨ A wish we hope for them.
✨ A dream we have for them.
✨ A promise to show up.
This is a new acorn on a strong family tree.
What can we do or say to help it grow?
This is a new star in our sky.
What role can each of us play in helping it shine bright and free?
Want a bonus? Set out a few cards or prompts at the party. Let your people speak into this little one’s future:
🪩 What do you hope this little human teaches the world?
🪩 What’s something you’ll commit to modeling for them?
🪩 What’s one way you’ll help make the world safer for their becoming?
Your “wonder reveal” just became a celebration of community, too.
Because the truth is—we don’t need to “know” who they are.
We just need to leave the door open long enough for them to tell us.
The Things We Can’t Unsee
Most people throwing gender reveals aren’t trying to box their kid in.
They’re trying to share joy. Celebrate life. Mark a milestone.
But here’s the thing about memories: they last.
Especially the ones caught on camera.
And when a video shows a dad (or aunt or grandparent) visibly disappointed that the baby isn’t the gender they were hoping for?
That moment becomes part of the family lore.
Before the kid has even arrived, there’s already a sense of who they should’ve been.
That’s not just awkward. It’s heartbreaking.
So if we are going to celebrate, let’s do it in a way that leaves room for every possibility this new human brings.
xxoo,
Lanae
P.S. You don’t have to cancel the party. Just widen the frame.
Swap “We know who they are” for:
“We can’t wait to find out who they become.”
Because that leaves space for real connection, not just decoration.
P.P.S., What would you bring to a Wonder Reveal? A wish? A promise? A unicorn plushie? Drop it in the comments.