My Precious Daughter,
I was never one of those people who “hoped for a girl”. Once I understood the magic that happens on the day you meet your child for the first time, I was content to welcome whatever gender I was given, and my first two full-term pregnancies gave me your incredible big brothers. They were absolutely delightful bouncing baby boys, and while some inkling of who you might be made me yearn for another child, it wasn’t because I needed pink in our house.
So when the nurse called to tell me that you were, well, you, I was excited just to know who to expect. And when I thought some more, I got super excited about that baby girl nursery and clothes with ruffles. What I never thought about, what I never remotely expected, was the way you would transform my understanding of myself.
Of my three children, you are the first to be like me: a daughter, a woman, perhaps someday a wife. You forced me to re-imagine the way I think about womanhood, to reevaluate my view of my worth and my body, to reconsider the way I speak about myself to others and the treatment I sometimes accept. When I reflect on my life and the decisions I’ve made, I wonder how different things would I have been if I had viewed myself the way I now look at you, if I had grasped what it means to be a beloved daughter. I wonder if holding you is God’s way of helping my heart understand.
When you are utterly delighted (or feeling ornery), you smile with your whole face. Your nose scrunches up into a “V”, and your cheeks nearly squeeze your eyes shut. Someday the world will call this a funny face, but I hope you still do it. I hope you listen to those who tell you the truth: this is the face of joy, and you should never filter your joy. Let people share it, wrinkled nose and all. I hope you are able to navigate that tricky line that is caring for your body and appearance without being ruled and defined by it. I hope I can model the freedom to accept yourself as you are instead of constantly trying to transform yourself into something else. I hope you always know the absolute delight that you are to our family, and that it will enable you to ignore the naysayers, because there will always be naysayers.
I hope that you choose friends that know your value, that you surround yourself with people who care about your character and not whether or not you take a good selfie. I hope you know that your beautiful eyes and hair are beautiful because they are you; what we see on the outside is only a mirror for the beauty in your heart. I hope bad hair days are just days, not moments that define you. I hope you always laugh at farts…because why not? And I hope you always look at your brothers like they are the most amazing boys on earth. I hope you let them teach you how to be both strong and tender. I hope you are never afraid to ask a question, and that you are tenacious about finding the answer. I hope you will always be comfortable being who you are and never comfortable pretending to be someone else.
Above all, I hope you never settle for second best. Don’t let a boy mistreat you because you think you aren’t “enough” to deserve better. You are always more than enough; you don’t have to earn that. Don’t give up the fight before it is done because your heart and mind are tired; you are strong enough to push through the tired. Please always see yourself the way I see you – the way God sees you – as a source of joy and a symbol of promise. Thank you for helping me, if only in fleeting glimmers, to see myself the same way.
