When I have a daughter, I will tell her that she is a stunning, breathtakingly thick tree whose roots dig deep into the ground, that the soil beneath her own veins is all she will need to be complete and healthy. I will tell her that when she loses her leaves, as she often will, they will grow larger and greener than before, that they will always, always continue growing. I will tell her that the branches from which she grows her leaves will offer protection for some and a place to rest for others, but her trunk is the foundation for which she will always find her strength.
When I have a daughter, I will walk by her side until her own wings begin to grow. Then I will slow my pace and stay behind, allowing her to lead the way with her red, beating heart toward all that she loves and craves. I will watch as she explores her strength and uses it to rebuild the broken pieces around her, of her own soul, of the world before her. I will watch as she learns painful lessons, like feeling the unique sting of a heartbreak, making her question her worth through the vulnerability that comes with loving another. I will watch as she feels every painful emotion that heartbreak brings, then I’ll watch as she puts herself back together and finds herself with new strength, new worth. I will watch as she discovers that which makes her whole body come alive, the things she loves and lives for, the things she devotes every pulse of her energy toward. I will watch as she walks with herself through each of these journeys, morphing through every lesson. Always I will be there, slightly behind, following the lead of a powerful, independent woman.
When I have a daughter, I will tell her that her menstrual cycles match the cycles of the moon. Can you believe that? I’ll say. You’re as phenomenal as the moon. I will tell her that at her core she is nature, as astounding as the aspen trees on a mountainside and as captivating as a waterfall flowing freely. I will tell her that the beauty she admires in a sunrise or sunset is also within her, and just like the changing of seasons she will endure phases of loss and growth, shedding and creating. Day without night and winter without summer are incomplete circles of life. You, I will tell her, must appreciate both the dark and the light moments that work together to create a lovely, living being. At your core, you are part of the intimate and rhythmic heartbeat of life, and if ever you feel lost you only need to return to nature, the rawness of life, guided by the light of the moon.