Let me tell you something

Little darling, you will soon be of age.
You will soon attain that stage where they begin to tell you things. Because people think that your being a woman gives them the right to have an opinion about every facet of your life. Listen, little darling. You must be battle ready.

Blue is to boys as pink is to girls, they will say. You are sugar and spice and all things nice so tone down that daring and adventurous spirit. Sit pretty and look pretty and don’t try to be one of the guys. Girls are not supposed to be smarter than guys, they will say when you top your class time and again. Guys don’t like to be beat, so you better stop acting like you know it all.

And after you get your period for the first time, they will tell you to put your childhood behind you. All those after school games on the playground, they must now stop. You will be taught that girls and boys cannot be friends. You are now a woman, they will say. You can now get pregnant. Do not bring disgrace to the family name.

From then on every discussion about the future will not be in terms of you becoming a better person for you, a fully functioning human bringing healing to a broken world. No, everything will be about how you can be a suitable wife.

Is this how you will treat your husband? They will ask after every little mistake.

Isn’t that a bit too ambitious? They ask when you roll out the business plans.

Can a degree keep you warm at night? They will ask when you get the second fully funded scholarship.

Don’t let it get to your head, they shout in trepidation when you get that promotion you stressed for.

Lower your voice, they whisper, when you begin to notice and call out the injustices.

On and on it goes. They will demand perfection from you at every turn, and still yet they will trip you up. You will feel stifled, you will feel boxed in. For every glass ceiling you shatter, another appears. You will want to give up. So be battle ready, my love. This metric system of theirs? Don’t keep up. It’s a never ending hoop, a forever shifting goal post. Chasing their approval will wear you out.

Be like the grass growing through the crack in the cement - beautiful. Because it doesn’t know it’s not supposed to grow there. And yet it does, pushing through, powerful, needing no permission or validation. Be resolute my love, in the pursuit of that which sets your soul on fire.

Take every ‘you can’t, you shouldn’t, and you won’t’ they utter and turn it into ‘I came, I saw and I conquered’

You will not be quiet. Express yourself with poise. Make them listen.

For every time they shame you, let your confident laughter be the shield against those arrows steeped in ignorance. Break free from their expectations. Decide who you want to be and walk that talk.

And when the dark nights come, embrace them. Acknowledge your pain, your disappointment. Wear your sorrow. But surely as the night ends and the sun rises, eventually you must change those clothes. Joy comes in the morning. Begin again.

You will not be a victim. I know sometimes it’s hard to tell if life is a burial or a planting but I promise, you’re a seed. Out of the dirt and grime you will spring forth, you will become. A sturdy tree planted by the rivers of water, bringing forth fruit in season. Other little girls will swing from your branches and fly into the cloud of dreams where everything is possible.

Love, you know how to fight. You’re stronger than the lies. No matter what you become and what path you take there, I’ll always be in love with you.

Love, you.

PS: I wrote this as a love letter to my inner child, and an encouragement for the days when it all feels too much. I hope you love it, dear sisters :)