Dear Daughter,
14.
Do I need to say it?
Yeah. I do.
WHAT IS HAPPENING WHY SO FAST SOMEBODY HOLD ME.
Being a parent is an insane experience. Just yesterday I was peeling your limp body off the ground after you collapsed with protest of leaving the park after a measly two hours, dreaming about a time when I would have more than five minutes alone that didn’t include locking myself in the bathroom and now today I’m standing outside your bedroom door, gently knocking before I come in and lie on your bed hoping to get a little more than five minutes with you. I try to catch up on the latest hot goss and use words like ‘sus’ and ‘facts’ just to watch your cheeks flare with embarrassment at my pathetic attempt to sound current when we all know I can’t even send a text without proper punctuation and fully spelled words. But I do it just to hear you say, Oh my god, Mom! Stop it! and then we laugh and my five minutes is up and I close your door gently behind me and I don’t cry at all. Nope. I’m totes fine. (Yes I know we don’t say totes anymore but I do what I want.)
Being 14 is hard.
Half girl, half woman; these two parts of you collide in confusion as each one fights for attention. I’m so comfortable with the girl inside of you; I know she likes to snuggle and be kissed goodnight and feel reassured. I know her favorite sandwich is salami and mustard and she prefers salt and vinegar chips. She loves to play with her slime and always makes time to find someone the perfect gift. Her heart is wide open, strong, flexible. And she will never deny that yes, she just farted as we all collapse with laughter covering our noses. This girl I know inside out; this girl who came from me, who grew within me.
Your woman is still a mystery to me and I don’t always know when she wants to shine and when she wants to be left alone. I hear her flirty chatter as she sits and does her makeup while FaceTiming her friends. She pays a little more attention to what she wears; I can even spot your woman in a pair of once forbidden jeans from time to time. She shaves her long legs and uses shower gels and lotions and could spend hours in Sephora. Her heart is still big and cavernous but she can easily pierce and puncture her mother’s precarious heart with careless words that tend to pair so well with burgeoning independence. Your woman, your girl, they spin me round in a dizzy daze as I tend to one then the other, shunned then snuggled on repeat. I do my best to honor both; I do my best to know which one of me you might want….my woman or my girl. Because they’re forever entwined, my dear daughter. We can’t escape either one. And together they will carry you onward even as your grip slips from one to the other.
So as your strong, capable girl collides with your bold, curious woman, I’ll impart some of my very limited wisdom with you.
Remember to keep a part of yourself for you only; hold on to your mystery as it is yours and yours only. Cherish what makes you stand out and let it lead you. Slow and steady wins the race. There is no race. Keep all of your books and fill your space with them. Don’t wear anything that everyone else is. Having lots of things can be fun but never let those things define you. Feel big. Love big. Laugh big. Find power in stillness. And always….always…always….return your shopping cart to the proper place.
Happy 14th Birthday, my sunshine, my only sunshine. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
Love,
Mama
Her girl. And her woman.
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