Love Letter, Vol 2

Dear Daughter,

There’s something I want—no, need—you to know:
I love you. Full stop.

Thinking about how much I love you makes me cry sometimes, which is maybe why I don’t do it, or express it, as often as I should. I don’t always have the capacity to hold that much raw emotion. It scares me, if I’m being honest. So instead of letting it flow, I turn off the tap.

For that, I’m incredibly sorry.

I love your grandmother very much, too, but I don’t remember her being the most emotionally available or affectionate with me when I was young. You don’t need to know the details—those are mine to sift through, not yours. But what I can share is that I didn’t have the most warm and outwardly loving role models to learn from. It’s taken me years to admit this, to unravel it, to acknowledge my scars and begin fading their marks. You’ve been on the receiving end of some of the unintended side effects of this process. I’ve had to turn inward, at times, in order to heal myself, and that’s left you more on the outside than you should ever have to feel. As I write this, I know I have more work to do to be present for you in all the ways you deserve. In all the ways we both deserve.

For that, I’m still learning.

You are one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. You are also one of my greatest teachers. I’m finally starting to appreciate the beauty in that duality. My coach likes to remind me that I was chosen to be your mom—by god, by the universe, by wizards, who knows—because the evolution I’ve been going through these past few years isn’t just for me, but for both of us. My personal journey of vulnerability, honesty, self-love, and self-acceptance will, god-willing, help you navigate your own journey, and avoid some of the emotional potholes and landmines no one protected me from when I was younger. I can’t promise you’ll sidestep all of them. That’s not my job, nor is it in my control. But I can try, at least, to give you the tools and comfort to process them so they sting a little less.

For that, I’m incredibly grateful.

My daughter. My kiddo.
I love you, and I am eternally proud of you.
I know you are a deeply feeling person, because I am, too.
It’s not easy holding everything so tightly, is it, Babe?
I’m here to hold some of it with you, if you’ll let me.
Will you turn toward me, when I turn toward you?
Will you meet me in our messy middle?
I know I may not always get things right.
But I hope you know that I am always trying.

For that, I give you my word.

Love,
Mama