Dear Evangeline, or Sloan, or maybe Honor:

Hi. This is honestly pretty surreal. Me as a mom? I imagine reading this back when I find out I’m pregnant, or the day you come into this world. I’ll probably think some of the things I’ve said here are stupid. What was 19-year-old-me thinking?

Right now I’m a college student just over halfway to my degree. I have no boyfriend or credit score, and my biggest concern is finding a date for formal. The only things I can cook are eggs and toast.

Right now I’m about as far away from being a mother as one could be. Stability and domesticity are antonyms for the hectic, whirlwind of my life at college. I survive on Mean Bean Monsters and ramen, and the only routine I have is for my skin, and even that is pretty loose. Last night I went to bed at 5 a.m. I wasn’t even studying, I was just rewatching "Captian America."

If I had a kid right now I’d lose my mind, and likely the baby.

My life has always been like this, unpredictable and adventurous and exciting, and I hope it’ll be like this for some time. I want to travel to far away places and tell peoples’ story as a journalist.

While I couldn’t imagine having a kid now, or in five years, or 10, I know at some point I’ll change my mind, and then you’ll come into the world and change everything.

That being said, I don’t imagine I will live out of a suitcase forever. One day, hopefully, I’m going to fall in love and get a house and have a kid. You.

Who do I want you to be? Who do I want to be when I have you? What do I want our relationship to be like?

If you and I are anything like me and my mom, we’re going to fight, a lot, but we’ll also form a bond so strong and amazing there would be nothing to tear it down. We’ll be each others’ secret keepers, best friends, and support systems.

My mom has sacrificed everything and has dedicated her existence to my brother and me. She has fought for us and worked endlessly to craft us into good, loving people. If I can be half of the mother my mom is, then I’ll have succeeded.

My mom taught me to be honest and hardworking, to also put God and family above all else. She raised me to be strong and passionate, to stand firm in the face of adversity and make my mark on the world. I want to teach you to do the same.

I want to raise my children to be smart, and strong, and ambitious, and independent, but most of all kind. There’s a lot of darkness and hate in this world, but I want to teach you to always seek out the light, and if you can’t find it, be it. Give to others and live as God intended, loving even those who hate you.

I’m going to teach you so much cool stuff as well. I’m going to help you learn to paint, ride horses, and read. There will be so many amazing works of art I’ll show you. One day, I’ll take you to the places I’ve traveled to, just like my dad and grandfather took me to places they’ve been. We’ll walk through the cathedrals of Europe I was mesmerized by and climb the mountains I explored as a child.

Then we’ll go on new adventures and make our own memories. I want you to see and do everything this world has to offer. I want you to experience life in a thousand people’s shoes so that you can reflect and grow your own existence.

I know it sounds like there are a million expectations already for you, but you’ll have all the help in the world to become an amazing woman and leader. You’ll not only have me but your entire family behind you.

You’re going to be loved infinitely. There will be no wrong you could commit that will take away that love. Your father and I (whoever he shall be) will give our lives to you. Your grandparents will be mesmerized by you. I can already see my mom dressing you up in frilly outfits that I’ll roll my eyes at but secretly love. Your grandfather will teach you to fish and to hit a baseball, just like he taught me.

You’re going to face hard times, but I’ll be there. If you’re anything like me you’ll break seemingly every bone in your body (twice). You’re going to eat lunch alone. A boy will break your heart. You’re not going to get the job. It’s going to feel awful and you’ll feel absolutely alone. I know, because I’ve been there. When you feel like that I’ll wipe your tears and tell you about the horror years of middle school, and that if I could survive, so can you. I’ll help you egg a guy’s car too.

I won’t say I’m going to be perfect. I’m going to make mistakes. Sometimes I’ll be unfair and angry. I might be too chaotic when all you want is stability. I’ll oversleep and miss your ballet lesson. I’ll let you dress yourself for picture day and then in 10 years you’ll hate me for it.

I’m not going to be the picture-perfect mom who wears Lululemon and plays tennis. I can’t bake homemade cookies. I have tattoos and I’ll probably go through a crisis and dye my hair bright red (again). There’s no question — I’ll disappoint you.

Despite what flaws I have and will have, I’ll try my best. Life is an adventure and we’ll journey together. I’ve got a lot of learning and living to do before you’re born. I’ll tell you all about it when we meet.

See you in 10 years (at least),

Mom