30 months

Dear Leila,

These days I’ve been occupied by the effusive, constant, near-devotional love you have in your life. You are the first grandchild on both sides of the family, which means that you have four doting grandparents, one borderline-obsessive masi (and masa), one set of fawning grandparents-in-law, and a extravagant gift-giving bua.

I fret about this love. There is a never-ending stream of toys that arrive at home in anticipation of your next obsession. You are rarely in want of a playmate. You have a phalanx of people waiting to do your bidding.

I worry that we are spoiling you with all of our attention. I worry that you will grow up entitled and sheltered — rarely having felt the sting of rejection or disappointment. I fear that you’ll never learn how to entertain yourself alone or, much worse, that you’ll never have the opportunity to experience your own grit and resilience.

But then today, I watched Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette. What a spectacular and brave piece of art. I wish that by the time you read this, Hannah will have gone down in history as one of the most powerful female voices of our time. Without going into the details, Hannah ends her show with a reference to Vincent Van Gogh’s brother — she tells of how his brother’s love kept Van Gogh tethered to the world despite his mental health issues. She makes the point that our collective narrative about Van Gogh shouldn’t focus on his meteoric celebrity, but instead on this love that sustained him in spite of himself.

I’ve also been reading Roxane Gay’s ‘Hunger.’ It’s another tough work, going deep — like Hannah’s Netflix special — into sexual assault, marginalization, and feminism. One of the bright spots in the book, though, is her relationship with her parents. They mess up at various points in her life, but their love for her is unwavering and unyielding.

Corny as this is, it made me realize that love is the unseen reserve of power we have inside ourselves. The more we have of it, the more capable we are of being brave and compassionate.

So I’m changing the way I think about all the love in your life. This love is not a liability —it is the potential for courage and kindness. It’ll make you fierce and invincible. It’ll make you ever more empathetic and give you the ability to stand up, every single time, for what is right.

In truth, I’m writing this as much for myself as for you. To remind myself and everyone else who loves you — our love exists not just to make you happy today, but to give you wisdom and strength forever more.

Love,
Mama