13 April 2014

An open letter to my daughter

Today is the tenth anniversary of the day of the offspring's birth. Ten years. You often hear, as a parent, to appreciate each moment because it is gone before you know it.

Funny thing, time. In the moment it seems to take forever. Diapers? Forever! Co-sleeping? FOREVER! Terrible twosthrees? Forever! Looking back, it feels like it went so fast. Now, I look at little ones toddling around, discovering things in that toddler way and I miss it. I miss watching my offspring do all those things. I miss the way her tiny body fit just right in my arms, against my chest, snuggled close. And yet, I wouldn't trade her now for who/how she was then for anything in the world.

I chose to be a mom of only one. When I was younger I thought the perfect nuclear family of two adults and two offspring, with some pets, was my dream. Then THE offspring came along. I could not imagine loving any other child as much as I love her. And, not to denigrate any parent with multiples (I'm one of three), I didn't want to risk it. Working with kids for as long as I have, I am well aware of the ability to have "favorites". There are clear parental favorites in my family, too. It's natural and expected. Plus, being pregnant was not my forte. Glad I did it. Not interested in doing it again.

Being a parent is the single most difficult thing to do. Trust me, I know. I'm also a PhD student. Parenting is harder. You are responsible for a living, breathing creature who is solely dependent upon you for basic needs as well as shaping who s/he will be as a future adult. That's a TON of pressure. Making mistakes is inevitable. Lows are incredibly low. Highs are beyond high. And most of life is somewhere in between.

Ten years have passed since the offspring made her appearance. Ten incredibly rich years of truly amazing growth, for her and for me. It's about time I write her a letter.

To my daughter,

First and foremost, I love you. With every fiber of my being. You are my greatest teacher. I enjoy the pleasure of watching you grow and learn every day.

You are ten years old today. I can easily remember the day you decided it was time to meet the world. And that day you not only met it, but embraced it. Grabbed a hold of it and haven't let go. The love that surrounds you is immeasurable and infinite. And the love you share is the same.

I'm writing this letter to you to tell you how much you have, do, and will mean to me. I have made mistakes. I will continue making mistakes. But I know that, together, we will learn and move forward. I hope that what I teach you will help you as you grow, because I know that what you teach me has helped me grow in ways I cannot begin to describe.

As we grow together for the next ten years (and beyond!), I have some wishes for you.

I wish that no one will tell you that you cannot achieve something you want simply because you are female. I wish that if someone does, that you don't believe them.

I wish that you do not define yourself by what society expects. I wish you blaze your own trail with your passions, love, and thoughtfulness for your own desires.

I wish you continue to be kind and loving to everyone around you. True acceptance is an incredible thing.

I wish your beauty continues to radiate from within, capturing everyone near you in its warm glow.

I wish you persevere when things get hard, like homework. Or growing. Or relationships.

I wish you continue to love traveling. Exploring new places and meeting new people provide you with a view of the world like nothing else. Plus, the food is usually exciting!

I wish you always feel supported and loved.

I wish you have a realistic, yet positive view of the world. And do whatever you can to help the world around you.

I wish all others you encounter see your potential. And help you to achieve it. And if they don't, I wish you show it to them anyway.

I wish you continue to sing. Your voice is strong and beautiful. The world needs to hear it.

I wish you continue to dance. You exhibit pure joy when you dance.

I wish you forgive me my errors and always understand that I am human, that I make decisions that I think are best, even when they aren't.

I wish you always know how much I love you. Even when you're mad at me. Especially then.

I wish you find what makes you happy. I will support whatever that may be.

I wish for you to know that you can change the world. And that you needn't be afraid to do it. That you are strong enough, smart enough, good enough.

I wish you continue to find humor in the world. And that you keep sharing your funny. Laughter is healing, connection, beautiful.

I wish that you continue to love nature and stay connected to the natural world.

I wish you struggle. And overcome. And learn. And fall down. And get back up. And conquer.

This life is a beautiful gift. The fact that you are part of my life is the best gift I can ever hope to receive. Thank you for ten years of amazing. I look forward to as many years as possible of more amazing, joy, funny, beauty, passions, struggles, conquering, and love.

Most of all, love.







2 comments:

  1. Hi Sarena,

    That was a lovely reflection on motherhood and letter to your daughter! I have an M.A. in Environmental Ed and have worked much in interpretation as either a biologist, NPS ranger or editorial photographer. Consider connecting at bruce@brucefarnsworth.com

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