You turn one next month. Yes, I am going to be like every other mother and say that time flies. But it really fucking does. (Sorry, mamma said a bad word.) But no other word expresses this sentiment better than ‘fucking.’ And just like every other parent says, before I know it, I will be at your high school graduation, with tear-streaked cheeks and a runny nose. Of course there are days when I secretly rejoice at the thought of you going off to school so I can regain some of my freedom, but the rest of the time, I just want you to stay this little so I can always scoop you up into my arms and kiss you relentlessly. I don’t want you to grow up because the world is a scary, scary place and I want to keep you safe, tucked under my armpit forever.
My love, you are probably the most beautiful you will ever be right now. Your inability to see the world for what it truly is makes you so pure. I hope that you retain that innocence so you can always see the world through your baby eyes.
Sorry for getting soppy. My nose is already watery and I’ve swallowed a few gut wrenching sobs. But my darling daughter, when the inevitable does happen, remember that you never have to be “lady ladylike.” The world lady has been misconstrued, manipulated and shat on by men and women who don’t like other women. “They” think that you should sit with your legs crossed, talk in polite whispers and never say fuck out loud. That’s bullshit. I want you to be loud, opinionated, and sit like a contorted circus freak if that’s how you like to sit. I hope that you’ll have broken nails and scraped knees from playing outside all day. I want you to curse loudly if the situation demands it, and curse in your head if you can’t do it out loud.
I want you to love yourself, and that doesn’t mean your boobs or the curve of your back. I want you to love the person you are. My love, forgive me for sounding like a cliché but it is so important to love the things that make you YOU.
But go ahead and love your body, your face and your hair too but remember darling, your laugh will always be more beautiful than a perfect pout.
Also, I don’t want you to be perfect. Just always try to do the best you can, love the people who love you and stand up fearlessly to those who don’t.
As life continues to weave you into its web, you’ll make some bad decisions and that’s okay because those eventually lead you to the right ones.
You will also fall in love and probably have your heart broken by self loathing asshole who didn’t know good he had it. (Sorry, that’s the mamma in me getting ready to beat the crap out of the hypothetical dick head.) But I promise that you’ll recover because you have so much more falling in love to do. Also, vodka helps. (Kidding. Sort of.)
So these things will happen. A lot will happen, and to quote another melodramatic cliché “life will happen.” And even though I might not be there to help you meander through it all, my daughter, I will, with every bit of my existence prepare you to grab life by the balls.
Oops, I did it again.
I love you.
Your mamma and your best friend.