A Letter to the Daughter I hope I Never Have.

Hello Sweetheart,

Welcome to the World.

I wish the circumstances under which I wrote this for you were better, or had me feeling more positive for you. But things beings as they are, this is what I have to say to you…

 

The world is a bad place.

I see good people every now and then, but I wish that instilled in me more confidence for you.

Sadly, it doesn’t.

And given that things are as they are, whether or not there are good people out there, I am expected to be a good parent- a good mother- and protect you.

 

See… This part baffles me, because I don’t know how.

I don’t know how to protect you.

Should I smother you with all my love and affection, and swear to keep you safe for the rest of my life, while consciously ignoring the awareness that I am taking your individuality and life away from you?

Or should I love you the way I wish my parents had?

 

Should I raise you to value and treasure your innocence, while also raise you to be more aware of defending yourself from any harm? This would mean letting go of you when the time is right…

 

Truth be told, sweetheart, I would raise you this way. Dangers, come as they may, should not mean I take away your rightful freedom to experience and discover life for yourself.

 

There is so much to see, sweetheart… So much to experience. So much to do…

And yes, your life will always be in danger.

 

Growing up female isn’t easy, sweetheart; I will not lie.

Every single day you spend might be a fight, an accomplishment even.

You’re going to have it harder to prove your worth… To be taken seriously… To have valid opinions…

There are of course, good people.

But we’re outnumbered, sweetheart.

I can promise you this- Growing up as a girl is always going to be a fight. Right from when you’re raised, to the day you breathe your last.

Life, is a fight, sweetheart. And men don’t have life any easy.

But to put things into perspective, your additional burden to bear, is that you will also have to fight prejudice from men and women around you.

You will always find yourself reminded of your femininity, your gender, and your feminine duties towards society.

You will rarely find yourself not being thoroughly assessed.

And men and women alike, will judge you and everything you are and stand for.

 

And if I wanted, I could protect you from all of this.

 

Or could I?

 

 

No. Your life will always be in danger…

 

But it isn’t just your life I want to worry about, sweetheart… It’s You. I want you to live. I want you to experience. I want you to do. I want you to be strong, stand on your own feet, and fight for yourself.

While I will always be there for you if you need me.

 

This is how I would like to care for you…

 

But sadly, it seems I may not be able to do so.

Society has me considering having you, so that I can keep you alive.

So that if I smothered you, kept all harm and danger away from you, and let not a scratch on your tender, delicate, pure skin, you will be okay.

But I’m not sure.

Will you be okay?

 

Will you be happy, sweetheart?

 

I know I wouldn’t be.

 

Being a woman shouldn’t have to be such a cross to bear, sweetheart, but sadly, it is.

And society has me considering raising you to be fully aware of your curse at all times…

By clinging on to you, a creation of mine, so tightly that it suffocated you.

By watching your every move, screening your every friend, moderating your every attire, regulating your alone time, restricting your outside hours…

Society has me cornered in the guise of saving you… Keeping you alive.

 

But I can’t do that sweetheart.

 

I can’t smother you. I can’t love and care for you so much that it ate into your very individuality.

I can’t be that parent.

 

I won’t be that parent.

 

And so, I’m sorry sweetheart, but I hope I never have you.

 

You deserve better.

You deserve to live a full life that is yours, and yours alone.

And quite frankly, the world isn’t ready for that.

 

And so, I am truly sorry sweetheart, but I hope I never have you.

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Of human relationships and bonding…

Remember when you met me for the first time?

 

You said something so trivial, so silly… And thinking about it now, it seems so meaningless, the conversation we had. Our first conversation.

 

My responses were silly too, blunt even.

 

I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me.

 

Yet we both were hoping for the start of something more meaningful…

 

You asked me what I did, where I lived, what made me smile… And I proceeded to ask you the same.

What did it matter right? What either of us did, where we lived, or what made us smile.. But we talked about it anyway.

We laughed at the silliest things. We tried to sound smarter than we were letting know. We were nervous, unsure, sceptical, a tad bit scared even.

But we still talked.

And the thing that hits me the most… about that conversation we had…

 

That was the best part of our relationship.

 

The two of us, strangers, exploring each other, looking for that something that would make us feel like we belonged to each other…

 

Do you remember that?

 

Do you remember how brief that first meeting was?

Funny isn’t it? We kept it brief, as if to show we didn’t really think about each other that much. As if to show the meeting was in fact… just another meeting.

But it wasn’t, was it?

 

I don’t believe there’s such a thing as “just another meeting”.

 

Do you remember going back home and thinking about me, as I did about you?

Wishing you had perhaps found a chance in our brief silly conversation, to take my number. Laying in bed later that night, didn’t you wish you could just talk to me some more?

Do you remember that?

 

Do I remind you now, of the time we finally did exchange numbers?

 

Of how excited we were, but didn’t want to show it to the other, and so we stalled.. Held back from sending messages.. from calling.

While all you wanted to do was start another conversation…

 

It makes me smile now.. the time we finally did send messages to each other… We talked about ourselves more… Explored each other more…

Do you remember that intimacy we shared?

Do you remember telling me about yourself, while I told you about me…?

 

The questions we asked… The way we tried to understand each other… all the while, looking for those quirks that we shared that would make us bond more intimately.

 

You remember don’t you…

 

I do. All the time.

And to me, this was the best part of our relationship.

 

This is the best part of any relationship.

 

When you don’t know, but are willing to learn about each other…

When you don’t expect a thing, and so every little thing I say warms your heart in the slightest…

When I can look forward to something new, which is you.

 

 

Do you remember this? Stranger…

 

 

Does it feel like we’ve met before?