To my Future Daughter,
Sincerely, your mom who can’t wait to meet you
To love someone well is to show them love in the way that they need. As most things in this world that is wildly more complicated than it should be.
Know that even though I’ve made all sorts of mistakes, I still love you.
I hope when I tell you that you chuckle, roll your eyes, and say, “I know mom.”
I’ll laugh back and probably hold back tears of gratitude that somewhere along the way we did well. The two of us, together.
I hope you don’t yell, “Then why don’t I feel like you love me?”
But if that’s how you feel, please tell me. I’d rather know then be locked out of your life. I will put all of myself into figuring out how to rebuild and regain your trust in my love for you.
I’m familiar with the pain a mother can cause
I won’t make this letter about me, but if we’ve come to a place where we can’t seem to get past our differences, please tell me that.
I know the pain of a mother who doesn’t try to find compromise; a mother who won’t even let me finish talking before she starts telling me I’m wrong. I think as the quiet youngest child, she got used to talking over me.
But I’m not that young child in need of her nurture any more. I don’t want her to tell me how to think, and I think that scares her and makes her want to control me more.
When I moved out, I found people who saw my intelligence and valued my thoughts. I grew confident in expressing my opinions, I became someone who didn’t like the black and white way of looking at the world my mother had tried to ingrain in me. The one that helps her make sense of things, and gives her guidelines she can live her life within.
To me it makes the world look 2-dimensional.
A 2-dimensional world is suffocating; there is no room for the human lungs to expand.
I have my own problems
I broke free of that mentality and learned to acknowledge the various shades of color that make this world beautiful and painful all in one jumbled mess.
While that sounds poetic and nice, I realize it comes with weaknesses. I can be sassy, have a short temper, get easily frustrated by people who aren’t being consistent or choose to live in ignorance; I can get overwhelmed with the world.
(But I’m sure as my daughter you already knew all that.)
I don’t yet know how all of that will affect our relationship, but it will. Every person I’ve ever met has scars from their parents, regardless of how hard they tried to raise them well.
Share your thoughts and experiences with me, I’ll listen
When I found my voice, my mother realized it was not a mirrored reflection of hers. She can’t seem to accept that. She only wants to know about the parts of my life that make her comfortable. And unfortunately that means a large section of my life I will never be able to share with her; it would spark a fight we could never come back from.
She doesn’t know I have anxiety, she doesn’t know about my PTSD, she doesn’t know about therapy, she doesn’t know about the guys I’ve dated or some of the friends I spend time with.
I’m one argument away from telling her she can’t be a part of my life anymore, and I don’t want that, so I just keep her in the dark.
Trust me, I don’t want that for you and me, so know that I will listen to you. I’m sorry if I respond poorly.
As much as I don’t want to, it is inevitable that at some point I will either say something that hurts or stay silent and not say what you do need to hear.
It seems part of human nature that we hurt one another.
And there’s something about the vulnerability of childhood that makes you more susceptible to being hurt.
The reality that I will hurt you in some way at some point is what makes me so terrified to welcome you into this world. It terrifies me that we could get to the same place my mother and I are at. Where one more fight could break us.
I know I’ll never be able to protect you from the pain of this world; I just wish I could prevent you from feeling pain as a result of my actions. I won’t be able to though, only a naive mother would think she could. Sometimes I wish I was stupid enough to be naive.
Here’s my promise to you
Since we already know that I can’t promise not to hurt you, here’s my promise to you.
I promise that I’ll work on my patience, so by the time we meet one another I’ll be better at that.
I promise to continue being curious. That way I’ll remember that, like the rest of us, you’re a complex and beautiful human and you’re allowed to change and grow with life. (I’ll also have all sorts of nerdy fun-facts I can share with you.)
I promise I’ll ask how you’re doing and listen with all the attention that is mine to give. (If your little brother is screaming from his crib, I might need to change his diaper, but I won’t pull out my phone and check my email while you tell me about your friends, deal?)
I promise to be there when you need me. I will come at 1am to pick you up from a sleepover if you get homesick. Don’t worry, there’s no rush, take things in your own time. When you’re ready to stay all night you’ll know, and we can celebrate you growing up with an ice cream cone. Until then I’m more than happy to hold you close.
I promise to want you in my life, no matter what. If you get pregnant at 15, I will want you; if I told everyone you were a boy when you were born, but you tell me at 20 that you’re my daughter, I will want you; if you go to a high school party and get drunk, I will come pick you up because I want you. (I’m not saying there won’t be any consequences for underage drinking, that would make me a bad mother, but I will first make sure you are alright.)
I will try not to fight your battles for you, as much as I may want to. I have a feeling you’re going to be more than capable on your own.
I will help you learn how to stand up for yourself, so you can fight with the confidence of the powerful woman you are. As much as I wish I could change the world so you didn’t need to be a fighter, you will have to. But know that I’ll jump in and fight for you when you need me to.
I want you to know you can tell me anything. I will listen. I will learn with you. And I will love you fiercely through it all.
I already know you’re going to be brave and strong and independent. You’re going to be a world changer, and I will be your biggest cheerleader.
Sincerely,
Your Mom who can’t wait to meet you
