Dear Darling Child,
As I sit down to write this letter to my daughter, my heart is heavy with a mix of emotions.
It’s hard to believe that the little girl who once clung to my skirt is now a teenager, navigating a world of her own. I now slowly realize that your childhood has ended.
I remember what it was like to be a teenage girl – the crushes, the insecurities, the feeling of wanting to break free. But as your mother, it seems like just yesterday when you were my little sunshine, lighting up my whole world with your laughter and curiosity.
I’ve always wanted to write a love letter to my daughter, to tell you how much you mean to me, to share the depth of my love and the dreams I have for you. But it seems now, more than ever, that our connection has frayed, leaving a wound that aches with every beat of my broken heart. The word ‘hate’ is like a rock thrown at my soul, and I am sorry if my actions or decisions have contributed to these emotions.
I want you to know, my dear, that no mistake you make could ever stop me from loving you. I’ve been there through every tear, every giggle, and every temper tantrum since you were a child. And now, as a teenager, I’ve watched you grow, change, and make decisions that reflect the person you’re becoming. I’ve seen you muster the strength to face the toughest days and still see the good in the world.
I won’t pretend that parenting a teenager is easy. There have been times when I’ve felt like I was walking on eggshells, trying not to embarrass you or smother you with my concern. I pray every day for the wisdom to guide you, to have better judgment, and to be the supportive and constructive parent you deserve.
I’ve worked hard to raise you to be a capable and independent young woman, even when it meant letting go a little more each day.
Remember the tween years? We used to sneak off to concerts, and I’d watch you sing along, your eyes alight with happiness. Those moments are precious to me, and they remind me that underneath the teenage angst, you are still the girl who can light up a room with her smile.
I don’t know why we’ve hit this break in our relationship, why we’ve become so dysfunctional.
I’ve racked my brain, trying to understand what could have made sure my efforts have crushed my soul instead of nurturing yours. Since I was a child, I’ve dreamed of being a guardian to someone as special as you, and the thought that I could be the contributor to your pain is something I struggle to come to terms with.
I’m not perfect, darling. I’ve made my share of mistakes, and I am learning every day how to be a better mom. I’d give anything to take back any moment where I might have caused you to feel rejected or unloved. I pray that someday you will outgrow this hate and see that every decision I’ve made, every rule I’ve set, has been out of love and concern for you.
I read a quote by Maureen Lezama, who’s a mom of three with a Psychology degree, and she says, “Parents set rules to keep their children safe. They also teach kids the difference between right and wrong and prepare you for the real world.”
I remember your first crush, how you bit your lip nervously as you told me about him. I remember the grade you got on that project you worked so hard on, and how we celebrated your success together. Those times in your life are the moments I hold onto, the snapshots of a time when you would run to me for a hug instead of turning away.
As a mother, it’s my job to protect you, but also to recognize when it’s time to step back and watch you make your own choices. It’s a delicate balance, one that I am constantly trying to perfect. You are at an age where you’re capable of making good choices, and I have to trust that I’ve raised you well enough to do so.
Teen years are hard, I get that. It’s a time when you are figuring out who you are and where you fit in this world. I see you pushing boundaries and testing limits, and it scares me, not because I don’t trust you, but because I know how cruel the world can be. I see the strength in you, the same strength that has helped me through some of the toughest times in my life.
I won’t give up on us, on the hope that one day we’ll look back on these teenage years and laugh at how dramatic we both were. I couldn’t bear the thought of letting this rejection wound fester and become something that would get us stuck in this cycle of hurt and misunderstanding.
You are growing up, and the reality is that you won’t always need your mom in the same ways you used to. But I’ll always be here, ready to support you, to celebrate with you, and yes, to kick you in the butt when you need it. I’m your mom – it’s what I do!
So, my dearest daughter, I write this letter with a tear in my eye and hope in my heart. I’m sorry for the times I’ve made you feel anything less than cherished. I’m sorry for pushing your every button. At times a little too hard…
I am always grateful for every day I get to be your mother, and I look forward to the day when we can hug and put this all behind us. It can be three years or five years, just know that I will be here waiting.
Remember, no matter how ugly things seem now, you are and always will be the best thing that ever happened to me.
I love you, now and forever.
With all my heart,
Mama
