A letter to my daughter,
At seventeen years old I was granted the gift of motherhood
I gave birth to a daughter equal parts of souls from two of the most complicated human beings to ever walk this planet
And at times I wonder if I should be writing her an apology letter, or maybe an instruction manual to let her know how one day her brain will work
I want to tell her that some days she get so angry, and she will leave. She will walk away angry and empty.
She will end things with words left unsaid.
When this time comes I will let her know that she gets this from us both.
I hope that one day she spends her days staring up to the stars dreaming about the impossible, because to her this is not impossible
And when that day comes I will let her know that she got those dreams from you.
I will catch her wandering aimlessly through life, hoping that some day she can become something better than what she is in that exact moment.
And when she does, I will tell her that she is so much like me, and she will make it through whatever it is she is wandering through, because even though she will feel so, so alone in this big world. She’s not.
She is equal parts of stardust and moonlight and she will know that she is the most beautiful thing to walk ever walk this earth
Because I will remind her, every day until I can no longer encourage her with all of the air in my lungs
Because I love her.