To My Daughters: I Hope You Know

I have failed and flailed and figured it out, one mistake at a time. But loving you has never, ever been uncertain.

You are sixteen. Which means I have officially spent sixteen years loving you so much it breaks the laws of physics. Sixteen years of trying to get it right, knowing I never fully will.

There is no manual for this. No guaranteed formula for raising humans through your own recovery. I wish I had been more healed when you were younger. I wish I had known then what I know now. But time only moves forward, and so did I. For you. With you.

And somehow, in the mess of my learning and your growing, we found each other. Again and again.

I want you to know a few things. Not because you asked, but because I never want to leave them unsaid.

I hope you know that when I got help, it was because I wanted to be the kind of mother you deserved. And the kind of woman you could grow up watching without shame.

I hope you know that even in my hardest moments, when I was unraveling or numb or clawing my way through silence, I never stopped seeing you. You were my anchor. My mirror. My reason. My heartbreak and my healing, all in one.

You are not extensions of me. You are not responsible for my journey. But you are the reason I fought to have one worth living.

I hope you know that even when I lose my patience - when the dishes are still in the sink and your backpacks explode across the living room - I still look at you with awe. You are smart, funny, kind, curious. You are your own people. And watching you become is my life’s greatest honor.

You joke that I’m old. That I don’t get it. That I still think TikTok is an old nursery rhyme. You’re not wrong.

But I do know this:

You are worthy. Every day. Even when you doubt yourself, even when someone else doesn’t see your brilliance, even when your own reflection feels foreign, you are worthy. Not because of your grades, your body, your behavior, or your social status. But because you exist. That is enough.

I hope you know you can come undone here. You can be soft. You can be bold. You can mess up and start again. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to be here. As long as you’ll let me.

And when the world tries to convince you to be smaller, to shrink your voice, your rage, your joy, your light - I hope you remember the look in my eyes when I watch you. That’s what real love sees.

So here it is: imperfect and honest, loud and quiet, fierce and feral: I love you.

More than life. More than breath. More than you will understand until, maybe, someday, you hold your own daughters and realize: this is what it means to belong to someone in the truest, most permanent way.

Forever yours,

Mama