Having a daughter increases a couple's chance of divorce by five percent, and with each additional daughter the risk goes up. This might lead you to believe that daughters add extra stress on their parents, but experts say the opposite is true, and in fact, a daughter's supportive role can explain why her parents might divorce.

One psychologist explains, "A conclusion we might draw is that wives with daughters are less likely to stay with their husbands because they know that with a girl, they'll never be lonely or without help." Perhaps women, who file 75 percent of divorces, have less of a reason to stay in an undesirable relationship because they know that they have daughters to fill the emotional void. This theory fits with findings we've seen before: girls with brothers don't grow up as fast as their brotherless peers, partly because they have to assume caretaking roles for their brothers. There seems to be evidence that daughters offer significant emotional and social support for their families, almost acting like third parents.

But what if we phrased this question a different way: why are couples with sons less likely to divorce? While it may be about avoiding loneliness, couldn't it also be that parents want the son to grow up with a male role model? If mothers often get custody, a daughter will have a female role model, but a son wouldn't necessarily live with a father figure. We can debate the merits of gender-based role models, but might this be a consideration?

I can't remember when I learned women had a marginalized history, but I remember thinking it didn't make sense; girls were smarter than boys. There was evidence of it everywhere in elementary school. Boys forgot their homework, kept disheveled desks, and never participated. Because of this I'm not really surprised to learn a new study found girls believe they are cleverer, better behaved, and harder working than boys, and by age eight boys believe girls are better, too.

Yet in junior high, something changes and a lot of girls stop trying. It becomes uncool to look smart, which reminds me of my high school self. While I never wanted to look stupid, I had a rule to actively curb looking like a kissup: I never, or at least very rarely, answered more than one question per class. Enough to satisfy participation requirements, but not enough to get a bad rap among students.

All this reminds me of a This American Life episode where Robin Epstein, a question writer for a now-defunct trivia show for teenage girls, lamented how hugely she overestimated teen girls' intelligence. The show was a disaster. Girls could hardly answer anything, and the questions had to be dumbed down until they looked like boy-crazy ditzes. The very stereotype the show was trying to fight.

In This American Life, Robin cites research done by feminist Carol Gilligan, who has written several books on girls and women. She found that until age 11, girls want to raise their hands and give the right answer, but around 12 or 13 something changes and looking smart becomes a liability.

Given the age, I can only presume that change is puberty and an interest in boys. Maybe they don't want to intimidate the boys who've conceded girls are smarter since age eight? What do you think changes?

I'll never forget the day in fifth grade when my best friend stopped talking to me. We had spent fourth grade being inseparable, and had gone to two Summer camps together that Summer. But when school started again, she had a new BFF and made it clear to me that she had moved on. That might have been for the better though. Educators and others who work with children worry that exclusive best-friend relationships can lead to destructive social behavior like bullying.

In its story on best friend trends, the New York Times explains that the social interactions of children catch the attention of parents and teachers these days: "today an upsetting text message from one middle school student to another is often forwarded to school administrators, who frequently feel compelled to intervene in the relationship." Such relationship management includes encouraging students to have more than just one friend. One interviewed school official said: "if we find a best friend pairing to be destructive to either child, or to others in the classroom, we will not hesitate to separate children."

Teachers and parents have become more involved, but it's clear that cliques and exclusivity are still just part of growing up. And once you become an adult, jealousy, cliquiness, and competitiveness don't simply disappear. While it was hard to accept the end of my exclusive friendship with my 10-year-old BFF, I'm certain that experience taught me valuable life lessons and I would never trade in the fun memories I made sharing secrets and goofing off. Based on your experiences, do you think kids would be better off without BFFs?

Source