11

Do I feel restless b/c of you?

I want to shed my skin, feeling the pulses of Spring move towards us and yet… it’s cold. I’m here. Stuck? Holding? Scared?

This is when they said you would be different.

Do I question my being and purpose and life b/c having you changed me?

YOU gave me the name that felt easy and natural and delicious from the start.

Dear Girl, you are 11 and I’ve lived a thousand years in your arms.

Never have I known someone so intimately, like this mother knows her child.

And NOW, layers of clothes and doors between us.

You do not belong to me.

Your flesh is not mine to sculpt, you are not my art, not my muse.

I watch you from afar now, standing your ground, speaking your voice, pushing back, speaking up.

You are powerful and embody all that grace and all that heart — a childhood full of curiosity and exploration heart-fullness and connection can bring to a girl seen. to a girl who was heard. to a girl who was loved.

In the mirror, similar. You remind me of someone.

And yet, in the story, we come from different worlds.

You have it easy, you don’t even know that. How could you?

Your home, your love, your story does not look anything like mine.

Just like mine does not look like hers before.

And just like the 4,000th kiss goodnight that I will plant on you this week with the words,

May you be happy.

May you be safe.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease.

I wish you with every cell in my body, Happy Birthday.