Dear Someday Daughter,
I am writing you this in case I forget what it is like to be seventeen and the friction between us could be issued as a warning on the local news of a very arid town. Or in case you hate me as all children seem to. I know that some days your body won’t feel like it is your own. I know first, that you will be surprised alarmed fascinated by the way your little girl body unfolds into womanhood. I know you’re going to have questions. The hair will come when it’s supposed to, the breasts too. Keep in mind that may be never. Keep an eye on your body. Know it. Feel it. Be able to find your way home in the dark. Know every mole. Freckle. Dimple. Greet them each time you undress. Try not to despise what you grow into. Respect it. Know that you are all the best things about me. If you’ve got this hair. Don’t try to contain it. Don’t spend as much time as I did wishing it was like the other girls’. And if you don’t like it when people touch it. Slap their hand. When they ask say no. Don’t wait for a boy to tell you your body is beautiful for you to believe that it is. Don’t let anyone tell you masturbation is wrong. You won’t go blind. You won’t go to hell. I promise. Sometimes loving yourself is the closet you get to heaven. Sometimes that shit is spiritual. Learn your body. Listen to your body. Your body is a temple. Your body is where you reside. Your body is a home with flower boxes in bloom. Your body is a holy thing. Some days you will forget that. There will be days when you can’t look at your naked self in the mirror and those days are okay. As long as you return to yourself. As along as you atone. As long as you come back to your body on your knees like the done-wrong-lover you know that you are. Your body will forgive you. It always does.
I love you now. I loved you then. I will love you still.
Letters to my someday daughter in case you hate me as all children seem to.Letter #2. 13014. Your Body.