Soon, you'll be 18. I know this.

A letter to my daughter

Letting go of you

and letting life be as it will

and letting myself rest in the sadness of that for a while.

The world is shifting again, and I’m still playing catch-up from the last round of changes.

You are blanketed in possibility with your crown fixed firmly and beautifully to your head. There is nothing you cannot do. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you when you need me.

All those years of nonstop everyday-ness still live in my brain like an automatic download every morning. But that’s not how it is anymore.

I can let go.

All the homework, and driving, and sleepovers, and activities, and meals, and friend dramas, and arguments, and breakups… it’s just different now.

I can let go.

Soon, you’ll be 18. I know this. And it’s not that you need me less (though you do) as much as it is that you need me differently.

So I can let go.

And, baby, I promise. I’m trying.

I am trying.

For now, though, I am letting myself rest in the sadness. Because you are my baby, and there is a part of me that was birthed at the same time you were birthed, and that part will never, ever, ever let you go.

It is what it is. ❤️