Letter To My Daughter
I’m not sure if this is coming too early or what your mother will think of “your father’s shenanigans” when she finds out (she always finds out, doesn’t she?), but I want you to know what I know early enough. I was a boy once and I am still one somewhere inside me. Boys are not bad for you. Boys are just boys, humans like you but not quite like you. Their bodies are different from yours in certain ways, they react to a lot of things differently and they think somewhat differently. Boys do not exist for you. They exist for God, for themselves and for the people they care about. You don’t exist for boys. Don’t be eager to please them (or anyone for that matter). Boys won’t make your dreams come true. They’re not God or your father. And honestly, making dreams come true is too much responsibility to place on people. Boys pretend to be strong all the time. They are not. Boys can be soft but only if they are taught how to be. So if a boy is raised to be hard, he will be hard.
Boys are not wild dogs on a leash, even though they snap sometimes. Boys need girls as much as girls need boys because people just need people and that’s how it is. You will meet boys, several boys, maybe a lot of boys. Some boys will be mean to you. You must never let their meanness color your judgement of all boys or the world. Some boys will be kind to you for the wrong reasons. You will see through them eventually. Your mother will teach you how. You will be invisible to some boys, the same way some will be invisible to you. It doesn’t mean that you’re not beautiful. Some boys will be godsends. They will make you smile, make you laugh and lift a load off you. Thank God for them. And maybe someday one boy will love you even more than I do, and you will love him as well. Maybe, but you shouldn’t worry about finding that boy. Sweetheart, don’t worry about any boy at all. That’s not what your life is about. There’s so much more to tell you, but we both know what happens when I go on and on. Don’t roll your eyes. I’ll save the rest for later. I love you. — Papa Steve
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