A letter from our daughters.

You may not realize it, but you are teaching me all the time.

Every time you second guess yourself, you are telling me that it’s okay not to have faith in my instinct.

Every time you turn away from your beloved in anger or sadness or frustration or boredom, you are telling me that it’s okay to be in a relationship that doesn’t illuminate me.

Every time you apologize for an emotion or for looking a certain way, you are telling me that it’s okay to offer excuses for how I feel and how I look.

Every time you criticize your body, you are telling me that beauty is found on the outside and that I may never live up to your standard.

Every time you acquiesce because you just can’t fucking deal with it right now, you are telling me that settling for fine is good enough.

Every time you conform to a life that is less than remarkable, you are telling me that’s okay, that’s how it’s done, and that’s what you have to do. 

But when you sing out loud, no matter what, you are telling me that my voice matters.

When you speak up for yourself through the tears in your eyes, you are telling me that I am worth more.

When you refuse to apologize for your life and for your feelings and for your actions, you are telling me that I can be anything and do anything in this life and that I don’t have to wait for someone else to hand it to me.

When you delight in your own being, you are telling me that I can, not only, give myself that kind of love but that I’m deserving of it from others.

And when you live your life for yourself, surrounded by only things that make you come alive, not settling for less than amazing, not willing to compromise on your values and principles, you are not only handing me the keys to my own extraordinary life, but providing me with the how to guide as well.

You are teaching me all the time. And you get to write the lessons.

*Photo & Graphic by Erin Cassidy