A Daughter's Wish

You are enough, I say to myself with eyes closed tight.

Some part of me knows that you love me. All those months that you carried me in your heart and womb, you dreamt of us. But when I emerged into the world, a young girl with a strong inclination to speak her truth–it scared you.

Was she enough for you? That young girl who dreamt endlessly and played in a world of her creation. Was that girl what you hoped for? That girl who wanted to be everything you asked her not to be. She played rough, and you were there to remind her that girls are soft. When that young girl wanted to paint and draw–you were there to say she should be a doctor. Painters and dreamers did not make enough. Or when that fearless young girl wanted to see the stars, you reminded her that she was not equipped with the skills it took to be what she wished to be.

I think of a time that I might have been enough for you. With every fear, you chipped away a piece of that dreaming girl, hoping she would come to her senses and see that there wasn’t a place for a girl like her.

And when that young girl became angry, you found it to be unacceptable. To be loved unconditionally meant she should hide behind a smile brimming with love and respect. You believed she should fit in the box you built because maybe then she would be enough to love–enough to accept. And anytime that young girl tried to stretch, to break out of your suffocating box, you reminded her of how selfish she was being.

To be angry and upset was equal to being cold in the heart.

To speak her mind was equivalent to being rude and hateful.

Never should a daughter be anything but what you dreamed her to be. And yet, no matter how she tried to connect, you found fault with the words she said. She was the daughter who fought and argued her way into conversations. The daughter who every time you looked her in the face, reminded you of the person who once chipped away the pure wonder of your heart. She reminded you of dreams that were not attained and of promises that were broken. She was a simple reminder–mothers and daughters weren't meant to get along.

That young girl did not mean to remind you of the things you wished to forget. She only wished to be. To speak the thoughts that overcame her, to break through the restrictions that were set before her, to cry, to yell, and to laugh loudly. That young girl, who is me, just wants to live in this world unapologetically.

As my eyes remain shut to the world. I am reminded of that young girl who dreamed fearlessly. A young girl who ran barefoot on a dirt trail. Tirelessly chasing lizards, and finding places to explore. When I look deep enough into that young girl's heart, I find adventure, the desire to be wild, to be dirty, and show scraped knees with pride. I find a heart beating with imagination and the aching call of the untamed fragments of the world. I find that girl who wants to test the limits and breathe fire like a dragon. I search to find her, to bring her closer to the surface, and to hold her hand in mine. In the hopes that we could find all of our unspoken wants and wish them into existence together.

I wish to be peaceful and calm like a tranquil pool. I wish the deepest and darkest parts of my soul will feel the warmth and light of true love. But mostly, I wish that when my eyes finally open, you would see that my heart is filled with the love you carried in your heart while I dreamt in your womb. And that I fit in this world just by being me.