If I could write a letter...
One of the primary jobs as a parent is to help your children navigate the tough waters of growing up. Sometimes you can teach them from the mistakes you have made. But other times, they just have to learn these lessons on their own. Those can be the most painful for a parent to get through. We fight the urge to help them through painful situations that we see coming around the bend, yet we know they have to experience them to grow up and mature.
Take for instance my 6 year old daughter. Last week she had a friend at school pull the ever-too-common "you are not my friend anymore" without reason or explanation. It broke her heart. I wanted to teach her about Mean Girls and that it is a part of life. But how could I? How could I tell her that in too many cases these mean girls get older but never grow up? I couldn't. I comforted her and did my best to help her through it knowing all the while that this would not be the last time a "friend" broke her heart. And helping guide the way for my teenage boys? Teen boys were alien creatures to me when I was a teen (though not as alien as teenage girls) and I am supposed to help my own navigate these teen years with enough interference to keep them safe, but enough distance to let them grow. It is a tough balancing act.
As I watch my kids grow up, I want to capture these years. I want to let them know who they were at certain ages and what they were most concerned with and worried about. I started a tradition a while back where I write a letter to my children on their birthday and recap the year they just went through along with my wishes for them for the next year. I don't publish these on my blog, but many bloggers use the Open Letter as ways to communicate with their children at any given age.
Take for instance Vivian who writes at Danieldoo who wrote a beautiful open letter to her daughter for her sixteenth birthday.
You and I have been through so much. There was a time that it was just the two of us making our way in the world. Those days were tough but I look back on them with pride. You taught me about real, no games, no strings, no boundaries kind of love. You have been special since the moment I found out you existed. You were not planned and the marriage you came from did not last but you were meant to be and you have had purpose since day one. No child has ever been loved and wanted more than you....
This is a milestone birthday. Many new freedoms and responsibilities come with this age. Before you embark into new adventures, like your first real job, driving and officially dating, there are a few things I want you to remember and hold in your heart. We love and believe in you more than you know. We do remember how it feels to be your age. You are going to discover that you still need our counsel, and that does not mean you are weak.
Beautiful, honest words from a mother to her daughter. Words that I am sure they will both cherish for years to come. I love the idea of writing letters to our children as they age. Letters that may or may not touch them at the moment, but will be cherished years from now. I have letters like that from my own mother that mean the world to me today.
Then I came across another birthday open letter that may never be read by the daughter it was written for. However, the candor and rawness of it was so touching I saw the power that an open letter can hold for it's writer as well as the intended recipient. Jennifer who writes a blog titled It's All About Me wrote a letter to her biological daughter that she put up for adoption. She writes to her daughter about how she is feeling as her daughter's birthday approaches.
Here is just snippet, but the entire letter is poignant. I wonder if the biological parents of my brother or sister would open up like this. If they, too, would want to share their feelings with them. I wish in my heart that somehow Jennifer's daughter would see this, too.
Seventeen years ago on January 30, I gave birth to a little girl who God intended for another family. I was in no position to raise a child, and He knew the best life for her was with adoptive parents.I am at peace with the choices I made, but it doesn’t mean I stop thinking of you, my darling daughter. You are always in my thoughts and prayers, as are your parents. I thank God that he was able to provide a family for you, and hope that you have brought them great joy.
...
And of course, I wonder if you think of me. I wonder if your parents have shared the knowledge of your adoption with you, making sure you know how much they love you, that they chose you to complete their family. I wonder if you appreciate their love as much as I do.
Though many parents write letters like these to their children, I love that one mom took the time and thought to write one to someone else. Someone she has not even met yet. Over at Suburban Kamikaze, one mom writes An Open Letter of Apology to her Future Daughter in Law. I have to admit, I thought it was brilliant. Maybe something I should consider doing seeing as I have two sons who just may tie the knot one day. This is one hilarious read and I really do recommend you read the whole thing. I may have to ask her if I can "borrow" it to keep for my future daughters-in-law.
Though he is only in middle school as I write this, I can already imagine what you must be going through as you attempt to navigate the complex needs and idiosyncrasies I accidentally instilled in my son.By now I suppose, he is well into adulthood, but still doesn’t know how to do a load of laundry, make toast, use silverware or handle disappointment of any kind.
It’s no excuse, I realize, but you should know that I, that we, had planned it differently.
It gets even better. She goes on to explain that she did try. That we Moms of today were certainly doing things better than our own mothers. Right?
We were not our mother’s daughters, after all. We were older, wiser, educated and well read. We had no idea what we were doing, but we were sure we were doing it better. How could we not? We had piles of books, the finest caffeine drinks in history and subscriptions to The New York Times. We had our own websites.
I absolutely love the line "We had our own websites." Because? Of course that means we are superior in the parenting world. Our. Own. Websites. Parenting gold medals, people.
I won't spoil her ending, but suffice it to say, we Moms cannot be held accountable for "outside" forces ruining what we have tried so hard to do for our sons.
As I was pondering all of these open letters and reading through many, many blogs with open letters like the ones I have highlighted, I came across a trend that I thoroughly enjoy reading. As we adults look back at the years that have passed in our own lives, what would we tell our past selves? Personally, I wondered what I would I say to my past self if I could? What warning would I give her to help her navigate the tough times that were going to come her way? Would I warn her against friends who were not good for her? Do I tell her to avoid those people who will hurt her, but will also bring with them life lessons? Lessons that I am still using today. I think I would have a lot to say to her. Mainly, that life turns out to be pretty wonderful. Bumps, bruises and all.
Maria at Just Eat Your Cupcake wrote a great letter to her 17 year old self. Words of wisdom from her 49 year old self. Here are just a few snippets. The entire letter is worth a read. There is such insight and honesty as Maria talks to her 17 year old self.
You are so much prettier than you realize. You are not fat. Nope. You are just right. But, hey....your penchant for long swirly skirts will be with you forever. It isn't just a phase....
Yes, you are a lesbian. You're pretty sure you are but are really, really hoping that some boy will knock you for a loop. It won't happen. Lots of girls will knock you for a loop, though. You might want to re-think the coming out thing at Thanksgiving dinner when you are 24. Mom will disown you for it and write you out of her will.
...
You won't be ready to be a parent until you are 40. Raising a child is so much harder than it looks. And you simply will not be equipped with the right stuff to pull it off until you are 40. That's okay. Don't worry about the issue of having old eggs. It won't matter.
How many of us would love to go back to our past self and share a bit of wisdom? Would you? What would you tell your past self today if you could? What age would you go back to?
I think these letters are a great lesson about learning more about who we were and how we became the people we are today. Try it! If you do, link it up here. I want to read them. I want to read what you would tell your past self if you could. If fact--and hold me to it-- I am going to post a letter to myself at some age (probably middle school because that was hell) and share it with you. Will you do the same?
Even if it happens to be something as mundane as: "Legwarmers will never be a good fashion idea. Ever."
cross posted on BlogHer