March 30, 2015

A letter to my daughter

Jubilee, my girl, hear me say this: being a girl isn't easy.

Your daddy says females are like moths (deal with us too roughly and we turn to powder). He's right, you know. And yet, he knows there is strength beyond measure inside of us. He has seen it when I birthed your brothers, and again when I battled depression.

And he watched you and I, as we painstakingly crafted a mother-daughter relationship from the ashes of your abandonment.

We are strong.

But still, being a girl isn't easy. Every 28 days you'll be reminded of that. And in the long hours of the night, when you are nursing your baby while your husband slumbers beside you in your bed, you'll know that yours is a life of self giving. Your body is not your own; it will be stretched and scarred, enjoyed, fed from, and clung to for years and years. Your heart is not your own; it will hopelessly belong to your loved ones, in a way that only a woman can know.

But girl, you will always be an individual. Don't lose sight of that, either. When you get the chance to voice your thoughts, do it. Oh please do it. If you can throw a perfect spiral, throw it. Don't let the fact that you are a girl hold you back. If you find yourself at a rock face in China, and you are conveniently wearing leggings under your sundress, climb it. Why the heck not?
After all, moths can fly.