Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

Baby girl, you are so incredibly beautiful. So delicate. So beautifully breakable. And because of that, I am afraid for you.

The world broke me. Like so many beautiful things in this world, I was delicate. And like so many things in this world, I broke. But I didn’t break on my own. I was broken. The world broke me.

The world broke me the first time I heard the lies and believed them. The world spoke through the mouth of a girl, probably broken herself, and I listened.

The world broke me when it whispered I was too big.

I was too big to be beautiful. It told me I needed to be smaller. I needed to be thinner. If I could just lose a few pounds, I would be beautiful.

RELATED: You Are Beautiful, My Darling Girls

The world broke me when it whispered I was too quiet. I was too quiet to be noticed. The world told me I needed to be more confident, more outgoing. If I could just be louder, I would be noticed.

The world broke me when it whispered I was too weak. I was too delicate to be loved. The world told me I needed to be stronger, less likely to break. If I could be stronger, I would be shatterproof. But I was already broken by then, and I thought it was too late to be fixed.

Baby girl, I hope the world doesn’t break you the way it broke me.

You are so incredibly beautiful and so beautifully fragile, and I am afraid for you. I can’t hide you from the lies forever. I can’t protect you from the whispers. All I can do is hope and pray and raise you to see the truth.

RELATED: To My Daughter When I Fail

You are beautiful. Always. Your beautiful soul fills your body and overflows into the world. You are perfect just the way you are. You are not too anything. Not too big. Not too small. Not too quiet. Not too loud. Not too strong. Not too weak. You are just right. You are perfect in the eyes of everyone who matters. Please remember that.

I promise to always affirm both your inner and outer beauty, whether you’re all dolled up for your first date or just waking up with wild hair and pajamas on. You are beautiful.

I promise to always affirm the beauty of others . . . including myself.

If I show you that all women are beautiful, maybe you will be more likely to believe it yourself. We are all beautiful.

I promise to do what I can to protect you from a world that enjoys breaking pretty things. I promise to teach you about the value and beauty of your body, a value that demands your body to always be treated with love and respect. Your body is beautiful.

RELATED: Raising a Daughter is Terrifying and Beautiful

But baby girl, if you find yourself broken one day, know this—all broken souls can be fixed. All wounds can heal. But you can’t fix your brokenness by yourself. And I can’t fix your brokenness for you. But I know where to lead you. I hope I can protect your precious, fragile, beautiful soul, but if it breaks, I know where you can be healed. I know the person who can put the pieces of your broken soul back together.

God can create beauty using our brokenness like He did with me. I hope the world doesn’t break you, but if it does, I hope you know you can come to me, and I’ll lead you to the place where you can find healing.

You are beautiful in your fragile wholeness, you will be beautiful in your brokenness, and you will be beautiful when you’ve been put back together.

You will always be beautiful. You will always be perfect. You are just right as you are, no matter what. But your mama has her dreams, and no mother wants to see her daughter hurt, so I hope the world doesn’t break you, baby girl.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Shannon Whitmore

Shannon Whitmore currently lives in northwestern Virginia with her husband, Andrew, and their two children, John and Felicity. When she is not caring for her children, Shannon enjoys writing for her blog, Love in the Little Things, reading fiction, and freelance writing on topics such as marriage, family life, faith, and health. She has experience serving in the areas of youth ministry, religious education, sacramental preparation, and marriage enrichment.

Six Feels So Much Bigger

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Little girl with horse, color photo

Six . . . Six is only one number more than five,  one grade, one year . . . but it feels so different. Five is baby teeth and new beginnings. Five is venturing out into the world, maybe making a friend. Meeting a teacher. Learning to ride a bike. Six took my breath away. Six looks like a loose front tooth—tiny and wiggly, soon to be replaced by a big tooth, one that will stay forever. Six looks like a bright purple bike zooming down the driveway. RELATED: When There Are No More Little Girls’ Clothes Six looks like playing...

Keep Reading

You Were Meant to Be Our Oldest

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Brother holding little sister on back

Dear oldest child, Thanks for taking one for the team. You’ve probably thought by now that Dad and I really have no idea what we are doing. You’re not wrong. Please don’t misunderstand, we have goals and ambitions as parents. We’re trying to raise you to be a healthy, positive, and contributing part of society. But you are—and have always been—our guinea pig. You are the test subject to this whole parenting thing. Each new phase you encounter brings another new phase of learning and growth. Unfortunately, with that comes growing pains, and you often take the brunt of those....

Keep Reading

The Bittersweet Reality of Your Baby Turning 5 Years Old

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Little girl lying on living room floor, color photo

Those first five. Those precious first five years have flown by. I blinked and here we are. I look back and think about all the times I wanted these days to go by faster. The times I couldn’t wait to get to bedtime. The days I wasted being irritable and angry because sometimes being a mom is just too hard. But now? Now, I wish I could have slowed it all down. Savored it a little longer. A little harder. That beautiful wild child who fought like hell from the moment she was born has been burning that fire ever...

Keep Reading

The Petrified-Squished-Spider Stage of Motherhood

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Bug squashed on windshield, color photo

There is a squished spider corpse dangling from the inside of my car windshield. I don’t know how long it has been there. Not because I don’t know when the time of death took place, but because I’ve lost track of the number of days it’s been a fellow passenger of ours. The burial service is past due. And a cleaning of my vehicle is so long overdue, if it were a library book I’d be banned from the library by now. When my husband removed his hat one evening while driving and used it as a spider swatter, he...

Keep Reading

Listen to Their Endless Chatter Now So They’ll Talk to You as Tweens and Teens

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Mother and young daughter talking on the couch

I’m a talker. I’m a spill-the-beans, over-sharing, rambling on about my latest fascination chatterbox. I love words, and so do my kids. I’ve spent over a decade listening to my kids share—often, as they all talk at once. They go on and on about their day, rambling about how their sibling has been driving them nuts, their shenanigans with their friends, and never-ending factoids about video games. So many words, so many significant and yet simple thoughts brought to life in our bustling conversations.  Sometimes I love all the chatter, and sometimes the sheer volume of it drives me to...

Keep Reading

Dear Kindergarten Graduate, My Hand Will Always Be Yours to Hold

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood

Tomorrow you’ll graduate kindergarten. You chose the perfect shirt for the occasion. It’s a blue and white button-up. “Get one with big checkers, Mom, not little ones,” was your request. I know it’ll make your eyes pop from under your too-big red graduation hat. It’s going to be adorable. You’re going to be adorable.  You’ve been counting down the days. You’re ready and, truthfully, I am too—even though I’m so often in denial about how quickly this time with you is passing. Didn’t you just start crawling? How is it possible you’ll already be in first grade next year? RELATED:...

Keep Reading

You Were Made to Be My Oldest

In: Child
Mom and three kids

You are my firstborn. My big. The one who made me a mama. The one who started this whole crazy, beautiful roller coaster ride the day I found out you were on your way. I remember tip-toeing to the bathroom before the sun rose and taking a pregnancy test. The flutter of excitement in my heart turned into a flutter in my growing tummy within just a few short months. And now here you are, seven years old and more incredible than I imagined in all my wildest dreams. You amaze me every single day with your humor, kindness, and...

Keep Reading

I’m a Kindergarten Mom at the Bottom of the Hill

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Boy holding hands with his mother, color photo

The local elementary school is perched atop an obnoxious hill. It is customary for kindergarten parents to walk their children to the top of the hill as the rest of the grades, first through fifth, having earned their badge of capability and courage, walk alone. Car line is off-limits for kindergartners, which means it’s a walk in whatever weather, whenever school is in session type of vibe. My oldest misses car line. I miss it as well. It’s so simple, convenient, and most importantly, warm and waterproof. But my youngest is a kindergartner, so for the last several months we’ve...

Keep Reading

When He’s 10

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Young tween doing homework at desk, side profile

My son is at an age where he couldn’t care less about personal grooming, his un-selfconsciousness both admirable and aggravating to me. “Let’s clip your fingernails,” I say. No. “Clean your ears.” No. “Cut your hair.” No, Mom, come on, I like it long. But a month or so before his birthday, if he was going to remain a boy and not a lion, he needed a haircut. So, we made some kind of deal, probably a bribe, and finally. Fine. “It’ll be long again before you know it,” I told him, as we walked together into the salon, “you know how...

Keep Reading

He’s Slowly Walking Away with Footprints As Big As Mine

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Teen boy walking along beach shore

The true measure of a mother’s love is her willingness to wake up before the sun on vacation. On a recent trip to the shore, my youngest son begged to walk the beach at dawn to look for shells. So, I set my alarm, tumbled out of a warm, king-sized bed with extra squishy pillows, glared at my dead-to-the-world husband, and gently woke my 11-year-old. Without so much as a drop of coffee, we headed out into the morning, the sun still below the ocean horizon. With each step, I shed my zombie-like state and took in the quiet, salt-kissed...

Keep Reading