Recently I have seen many videos of fathers teaching daughters to look in the mirrors and speak affirmations about themselves. I may or may not have shed a few tears, but ultimately these clips inspired me to write a new piece about how I will speak to my future daughter if/when the time comes. The ideas come from lessons I have learned from my father and mother, as well as a few things I've picked up from personal experience. It is a written version of a spoken word poem, so I hope you enjoy!
Things I will tell my daughter before bed:
They are going to call you naive, a wide-eyed little girl with no sense of reality;
When it happens, do not weep.
When it happens, stand up straight and tell them that you will not apologize for all of your soft.
Tell them that there is going to be a time when they have done something unforgivable and the only one left to love them will be a naive, wide-eyed little girl who finds the light they thought died a long time ago.
Tell them that, sometimes,
you have to forget everything in order to learn something new.
Sometimes, it takes a little more faith and a little less criticism to find all of someone else's soft.
They are going to call you weak.
When it happens, do not raise your fists.
But when it happens, baby girl do not back down.
Look them in their eyes, even if you have to look up.
Tell them that having a big heart does not make you weak and having big fists does not make them strong.
Tell them that in fact, your big heart makes you stronger.
Tell them how a big heart means more space for other people - which opens the door to hurt.
Tell them about all the times you made space just for someone who never showed.
Tell them about the times your heart swelled for the homeless on Market Street just to burst when you had no change to give them.
Tell them that Aphrodite was a goddess of hearts but nobody dared to call her weak.
They are going to say "you love too much".
When you hear this, say thank you.
Find the good in them and say you love them, too.
My love, there will come a time when they say that you can't.
When it happens, stand there and smile.
When it happens, do not forget who you are.
Tell them to watch you.
Tell them about your mother, and her mother, and the generations before them who did.
Tell them that maybe, just maybe, this time you can't. But next time?
You will.
Tell them that you have been made from matchsticks and kindling,
Tell them that you were created from stardust and the ruins of Jericho.
Tell them your soul was built from the ground David walked on when he slayed Goliath and you,
you are naive and wide-eyed, and you
are strong and loving,
and you can do this.
You will do this.
You are unapologetically you,
and you are going to make it.
