THREE BOOKS & A PROMISE...
Dear Mini-Ed,
Having a daughter means something. It’s kind of like I’ve made a promise. To you and to me. A promise to stand strong against anything that threatens you, or to bite the bullet and stand back when you need to learn the hard way. I did my best to remain calm when you ripped the pages out of my books; tried to be impressed when you proudly showed me your artwork on the lounge wall. I tried my hardest not to stop breathing when you cracked your head against the corner of the dresser. I’ve finally forgiven myself for that time you broke your arm, and accepted that it’s amazing what a five-year-old can do with twenty seconds of unsupervised time. Hey, I even managed to keep a straight face when you demonstrated how loudly and clearly you could pronounce ‘Shit!’
Most of the parenting advice I’ve ever been given has been utter rubbish. We’ve had to learn how to do this in our own way – me, you, and mummy – and we need to carry on learning. However, I was once told that today’s tears are tomorrow’s laughs, and I try to hold to the hope that gives me. Because there has been so much more laughter. The good has always outweighed the bad as we learn together, and I want that to continue. I want to give you the freedom to grow into an individual, but also the guidance that helps you to remain a good person. Someone who knows they can be whatever they want to be, as long as they put in the work. Someone who is tolerant, accepting, who is strong enough to stand against the prejudices you might face simply because you are a girl.
Yes, that’s a problem in the world, I’m afraid. But not one you’ll ever face from me. And you should know that there are lots of other girls, out there right now, fighting for equality, for the kind of rights that they shouldn’t have to fight for. I have to admit that I wish I was as strong as some of these people, but I support them, and I believe in equality. It is my hope that the tomorrow the endeavours of today brings will be a better world for you to fly free in. I doubt that world will be fully fixed, and it will still need improving. I promise to prepare you for that.
And speaking of my promise, I have a confession: I need to do better. I’m not very good at looking after myself, you see. I struggle with a lack of self-worth, my confidence is shaky at best, especially when expressing opinions; I’ve been clumsy overcoming hardships, made some terrible mistakes along the way, and I have to admit there have been times when I really wasn’t a good person. There are reasons for this, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever tell you about them. But watching you grow so quickly, I’ve come to realise that you help me take responsibility for who I am, the good and the bad, and my perspective on life is altering for the better because of it.
I’m a writer. Not long ago, I got a very good agent who got me a very good book deal with a very good publisher. One day, you’ll understand just how much this means to me. You’ll understand how much I love writing stories, and you’ll hopefully get to meet some of the great people I have around me right now. When you’re older, I’ll give you three books, and should you wish to, you can read all about the adventures of your namesake. And while you’re reading, I want you to remember that I wrote those books with you as an inspiration. They are my legacy to you. You give me hope, you give me perspective, you give me the drive to be better.
Having a daughter means something. It’s kind of like I’ve made a promise. To you and to me. A promise to stand strong against anything that threatens you, or to bite the bullet and stand back when you need to learn the hard way. I did my best to remain calm when you ripped the pages out of my books; tried to be impressed when you proudly showed me your artwork on the lounge wall. I tried my hardest not to stop breathing when you cracked your head against the corner of the dresser. I’ve finally forgiven myself for that time you broke your arm, and accepted that it’s amazing what a five-year-old can do with twenty seconds of unsupervised time. Hey, I even managed to keep a straight face when you demonstrated how loudly and clearly you could pronounce ‘Shit!’
Most of the parenting advice I’ve ever been given has been utter rubbish. We’ve had to learn how to do this in our own way – me, you, and mummy – and we need to carry on learning. However, I was once told that today’s tears are tomorrow’s laughs, and I try to hold to the hope that gives me. Because there has been so much more laughter. The good has always outweighed the bad as we learn together, and I want that to continue. I want to give you the freedom to grow into an individual, but also the guidance that helps you to remain a good person. Someone who knows they can be whatever they want to be, as long as they put in the work. Someone who is tolerant, accepting, who is strong enough to stand against the prejudices you might face simply because you are a girl.
Yes, that’s a problem in the world, I’m afraid. But not one you’ll ever face from me. And you should know that there are lots of other girls, out there right now, fighting for equality, for the kind of rights that they shouldn’t have to fight for. I have to admit that I wish I was as strong as some of these people, but I support them, and I believe in equality. It is my hope that the tomorrow the endeavours of today brings will be a better world for you to fly free in. I doubt that world will be fully fixed, and it will still need improving. I promise to prepare you for that.
And speaking of my promise, I have a confession: I need to do better. I’m not very good at looking after myself, you see. I struggle with a lack of self-worth, my confidence is shaky at best, especially when expressing opinions; I’ve been clumsy overcoming hardships, made some terrible mistakes along the way, and I have to admit there have been times when I really wasn’t a good person. There are reasons for this, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever tell you about them. But watching you grow so quickly, I’ve come to realise that you help me take responsibility for who I am, the good and the bad, and my perspective on life is altering for the better because of it.
I’m a writer. Not long ago, I got a very good agent who got me a very good book deal with a very good publisher. One day, you’ll understand just how much this means to me. You’ll understand how much I love writing stories, and you’ll hopefully get to meet some of the great people I have around me right now. When you’re older, I’ll give you three books, and should you wish to, you can read all about the adventures of your namesake. And while you’re reading, I want you to remember that I wrote those books with you as an inspiration. They are my legacy to you. You give me hope, you give me perspective, you give me the drive to be better.
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