I love my first born, as I do all my children. She is a piece of me that stands outside of my body, that i can see and hear and love, and have no control over. She looks like the man that helped me create her, her dark eyes and skin. I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is inside and out. She carries within her my sense of humor, my wit, and the ability to make others love her. She has such a big heart and feels empathy for others, even putting others first. She is so strong. I think if anyone understands me, she does it best. I asked her about two years ago, “when you grow up, can we be best friends?” she replied with “Mom, I think we already are.”
In her lies my hopes and dreams. Not in the sense that you might think. She only needs to be true to herself, to follow her dreams, her heart. She is fast approaching young adulthood and I wonder what is ahead in life for her. She is trying to stretch her wings a little, to pull away from the safety and daily stresses of her family life. She wants to be her own person. To make choices for herself. In time, she will have the chance, and I am grateful for her patience. She understands that we all want her to be happy, and we also all want her attention. She has divided her home into three houses. Her dad’s, her biological father’s, and mine. She tries to make time for each of us, plus her many siblings. She has very little social life now that her dad and I have separated, and her father decided to take some of her time legally. I feel sad for her. She doesn’t say much about it, but it comes out. She hasn’t been sleeping well for a few months. At her last choir concert we couldn’t find her shirt, she freaked out and started crying, yelling about how she hates having three homes, that she can never find her things. I didn’t know how to fix that. I wanted so badly to fix that. Today she tells me that she just doesn’t want to be around any of us, but that she wants to be around me more than she has been. I don’t know if she added that to save my feelings, but I want her to get the chance to be alone, to go do things with her friends and be herself. I made the choices in my life that continually affect hers. I hope one day she knows I too am doing the best I can. I just keep telling her it will be ok, and to keep telling us what she needs, that she has a right to be happy and to pursue the life she deserves. Even when it hurts her parents, she should at least voice what is going on inside. I know her dad loves her and wants her to live her life to the fullest even if that means he sees less of her too.