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Dear
Daughter,
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.
