An Open Letter to My Daughter on her Third Birthday
Dear Millie,
I blinked… and you are 3. I know that I will blink again and you’ll be in school. I’ll blink and you will think I’m not the “bestest” anymore. I know that I will blink and you’ll be playing sports or dancing or finding an activity that you love. I know that I will blink and you’ll be driving. I know that I will blink and you will be graduating high school… but for now, you are 3.
We all learn by watching. I know that you will learn by watching me, your Daddy, and the whole village of people around you who love you. This worries me too, because I know that the lessons and things I hope to teach you or truths I want you to know, may not always come across the way I would like. My actions and those around us may not always match our words, so I try to remember to be intentional. You don’t know or see this now, but life isn’t always easy and just like you, I am growing and evolving too. The version of myself I am today is slightly different than who I was yesterday and is very different than who I was 10 years ago. It will be different tomorrow and I’m sure very different 10 years from now too. It is our job to grow and to continue “becoming”, so this is a good thing. When things happen… I know that the way I react will be what you consider “normal”. The way I handle things will be what you think everyone else does. We are slowly building your view of the world, your perception of how this thing called life works, and I hope that we can always surround you with different people, different opportunities, and different places so that you know that our little tiny corner of the world isn’t all there is, but it is pretty special too. I hope you will know that giving yourself grace is the most important thing you can do. Mommy and Daddy aren’t perfect, but we will work hard every day to become a better version of ourselves and that’s where the magic is.
You are always learning, which means I am always teaching. This isn’t completely new territory for me. Teaching 7/8-year-olds day in and day out, means I know what it is like to teach. I know what it is like to be “on”, to set a good example, to be a role model. This is different. Being a parent means that you are always “on” and it is my job to try and do my best… whatever that may be, for you. There are and will be moments that I am not my best and I know you will see those too. This is okay with me, I’m human and I want you to know that no one has always got it all together… even if they appear to. What I hope you see in those moments though is that it’s okay. It is okay to not have it all together for a while, but eventually you will continue. It is okay to have feelings, big or small. Millie, feelings are for feeling, despite what our culture will try to teach you… feel them. Ride the wave, just don’t let it consume you. I don’t ever want to be so numb, which our culture would love us to be, that I’m not heartbroken when I see the news of a tragedy that happened halfway across the world. I don’t ever want to be so numb that I don’t stand on the shoreline feeling the ocean touch my feet and realize just how small we actually are. I don’t ever want to be so numb that I miss the joy in the birds singing in the morning, the warmth of the sun on my skin, or the way your laugh makes my whole world pause in the best way. I don’t ever want to be so numb that I can’t show up for the people around me, for the community we live in, and especially for you.
I’ve struggled with trying to unlearn things that I learned over the years that I know no one ever intended me to learn. We are always surrounded by messaging… whether it is the people in our lives, billboards, newspapers, television, the media… there is messaging always around us, some intentional and some not. Some day we can talk about all of the things I learned that I had to unlearn… lessons I wish I never believed to be true, that could have saved me a lot of trouble and pain over the years, but for now what I want you to know is that this life, this one beautiful and precious life, is yours. It is not mine, it is not your father’s, and it is not any of the people around you… just yours sweet girl, only yours.
What does that mean? It just means that it is our job to be here for you, to love and support you, and to guide you in any way that you may need along the journey. It is not our job to decide for you though or push you to things that we may have wanted or want now. I hope we always remember this. I hope most of all that we create and continue to model a home that communicates, that talks openly about what we want or don’t, so that way you don’t feel like you have to guess or fill in the blanks. I hope that you always feel like you can be honest with us and know that we will hear you. I can’t promise that we will always be happy or react exactly as you may hope, but I can promise that we will always hear you… we will always hold space for you… and we will always be open and show you respect. Learning and growing is hard work, even as an adult, so having a corner of the world that will always show up for you, always hear you and sincerely listen, and always make you feel like you have room and you are welcome… is the most important thing we could ever give you and I hope that is how we always make you feel.
But… today you are 3. Today you love spending time with us (well, most of the time… although admittedly I think you would often trade us for Cheryl or Ya-Ya or Mee Mee). Today you are lost in the land of princesses, incredibly big imagination, and make believe. Today you are lost in painting sea monsters or fairies (Mommy, can’t you see it?). Today you are 100% Millie… nothing and no one has tried to change you, tried to make you fit their own standards, and I hope that 10, 20, 30 years form now that is still true.
Today you feel it all, big or small. Admittedly, there are times when this frustrates me, but I try to remember that this will serve you so well throughout your life AND you have only been here on this crazy planet for 3 years after all. Today, you love making people smile and laugh. You have the biggest heart. You are curious, you are bold, and you are fiercely independent (although we are working on knowing it is still okay to ask for help). Today, you love to paint, to create, and to dream. Today, spending time together is the most precious and beautiful adventure you could ask for… despite my attempts to do something magical today and go on an adventure… your perfect birthday adventure was just playing together at home… I learn a lot from you too, sweet girl. Here’s the biggest secret… I know you don’t see it right now, but I’m not the only one always teaching and reminding… you are too. You remind me to slow down, to pause, to appreciate everything right in front of me. You remind me to find joy in all of the small imperfect moments, to create and build opportunities for memories, and to be present through all of them. You remind me that time is a thief and it moves too quickly. You remind me not to blink, but that blinking is all a part of the journey we are on… all at the same time. You teach me that it isn’t always this or that… it is almost always, AND. You teach me that forgiveness is necessary, messing up is the only way you learn and grow, and being tough on yourself is really not helpful. You teach me something new, every single day, and it is the toughest, craziest, and most beautiful adventure that I will ever have, being a Mom. Today is all about you, but it is a tiny, little bit ours too.
Happy Birthday, my sweet, spicy, kind, independent, strong-willed, princess loving, outdoor playing, sassy, heart as big as they come, imaginative, creative, and beautiful… Millie. Keep being all of the wonderful parts that you are, don’t ever lose them because the world tells you to be a certain way. You are you, that is truer than true, and there is no one alive who is youer than you! I love you, all ways, always, forever. — Mom
I often write Millie letters and keep a journal, but something about this one pulled me to share it with you. Something about the lessons we don’t mean to learn, the ones we don’t mean to teach… was calling to me and weighing on my heart and mind. We don’t always mean to send the messages we do, teach the lessons we do, but we can have open conversations and be willing to hold space for those around us, to listen without judgement or pressure, and to sincerely be willing to simply be there. By watching our intentions closely, speaking our truths, and being mindful of others while not abandoning who we are, we can start to heal relationships and build better paths forward. It takes time, a lot of dedication, and it isn’t always easy, but creating something beautiful never is. May we all find the space to show up, just as we are, and may we be seen for the beauty that is uniquely ours.
Here’s to pursuing a present, simple life by living intently and always remembering what matters and what doesn’t. Remember to give yourself grace and permission to enjoy the journey. I’m always in your corner, cheering you on, and pulling for you friend!
With love always, Madison
