Daughter of mine, I see the fire behind your eyes. Do not let it die.
Daughter of mine who runs wildly and loves freely and whose anger is always whipping silently just under the surface like a pilot light, ready to ignite with one tiny spark. Do not let it die.
Daughter of mine, one day you will become a woman, and the world will try to steal you and mold you and tell you who to become. Do not let it. It will try to fit you in an ever-changing box of standards that are never achievable and always require more and more of you. Do not let anyone put you in any box of any kind, for your wings were never made to fit in anyone’s box. Never forget that.
You are your own perfectly created standard. You are more beautiful than you will ever know. You are fierce and brave and kind and made of flint and steel and fire and love and beauty and perfectly knit together just as God wanted you to be. For if He wanted you to be a different creation, He would have made you as such. But you are you, and I am forever thankful for His handiwork.
Daughter of mine, you will never know how simply being you saves me over and over. How you never allow me to stop striving to be a better woman. How you teach me to set standards and question them at the same time in order to create a better world for you. To teach you what you deserve. To teach you your value. To teach you what matters.
You and your brothers are my breath and bones, and I will never stop loving you or fighting for you. Beautiful girl. I am so proud to call you my daughter. I am so proud to get to run alongside you as you learn to fly.