This Women’s Day, I am filled with reflections not on my life but that of my daughter’s. She might not be a woman yet but will the world wait for her to truly grow into one? As she sleeps soundly, with one arm draped over her tiny forehead, my lungs inflate and deflate with hope and fear.

I hope she grows into an outgoing toddler who loves to meet new people; isn’t afraid to speak to them and wouldn’t hesitate to wave hello or blow a kiss at random strangers in supermarkets.

I fear these new people and random strangers might be paedophiles who might abuse my baby girl.

I hope she starts eating healthy now so that she wouldn’t need to “diet” later on. I hope she grows into a woman who is confident in her skin and doesn’t let stereotypes dictate her life.

I fear I might not be the shining example she should emulate; that I will not be able to overcome my own bad eating habits to show her the good ones, and that sometimes I am not comfortable with my own body image.

I hope she would choose playing outdoors over sitting down with some device indoors. I hope she will find rolling in the grass, chasing butterflies and getting her finger nails dirty far more attractive than playing Angry Birds on an iPhone.

I fear the peer pressure to own and use devices. I fear this place with its harsh winters that leave us stranded indoors. I fear the lack of playmates for her.

I hope she realizes the power of education to transform her life; that she has an insatiable quest for everything around her, and that she delights in reading books more than anything else in the world.

I fear the rat race that education is today. I wonder if her education will teach her how to survive the real world. I fear she might choose an ebook reader over a physical, hardbound book that smells wonderfully musty.

I hope she finds love over and over again in life; that she is not broken or scarred irrevocably by any of her lovers; and that she knows it when she is facing her soulmate.

I fear all the little boys who might grow up and hurt her in the name of love. I fear she she will be too afraid to put herself out there…to try and find the love she so deserves. I am terrified she might encounter chauvinism masquerading as a protective lover. I am most afraid that I will judge her mistakes in love.

And, I finally hope she will never have to face violence. That she will never know what it is to get groped on her way to somewhere; that she will never suffer the trauma of being raped; that she will never fear for her life because she is a woman.

I fear this is sometimes not the world I would want for my baby girl. I fear that she may not survive such a brutal onslaught of casual misogyny. And it makes me sick to think that she would regret being born a woman at some point in her life, thanks to the men in her life.

This Women’s Day, I pray that my daughter experiences the brilliance of simply being a woman. I want her to realize that she is a juggernaut of the feminine. And I hope that she makes it her life’s purpose to be herself irrespective of what life brings her. I want her to look life in the eye and say, Bring it on!