“My girl, the world is not ready for you…”
I whispered over her with a frown tugging at the corner of my lips.
I looked down at my baby girl as I cradled her in my arms for the first time.
Her delicately curled fingers.
Soft lips.
Wisps of downy hair.
Her chin tucked sweetly against my chest.
I hadn’t yet made it safe for this precious girl.
Her sacred little body.
Her beautiful brain.
I hadn’t made it ready in all the ways I hoped.
I’d still have to remind her of her worth.
I’d still have to teach her to not to smile when a man makes her uncomfortable.
I’d still have to give her confidence to speak her mind.
I’d still have to show her the ways to walk at night.
I’d still have to teach her to protect her body from those who believe it to be an object.
It all felt like so much.
It just wasn’t ready for her.
But she grew despite all that.
I look at her now.
My daughter, a young woman gazing off into the horizon that is her future.
Her ready fists.
Her bold tongue.
Wild Hair.
Chin jutted up in defiance.
I look at her and see all the fight of all the women who came before her.
Mother, grandmother, great, great, great women deep in the past, their battle song beats strong in her heart.
Still today.
She will be more than I ever dare dreamed to be.
She is a force.
The world will be blindsided.
I may have not done enough.
But I know she’ll keep the charge going.
And today I don’t whisper.
Today I don’t frown.
Today I say with a confident smile.
“My girl, the world is not ready for you.”
