I was a girl, once. Most days, moments even, I still feel I am one.All evidence to the contrary.
I did not have sisters. I had some close approximations, but no.
I always felt I would be the mother of sons. Doting. Adoring. Adored.
Ha.
I feel at times that I have been given what I needed, but not what I can necessarily handle.
But handle it, I must.
And I do. Beautifully.
What on earth makes us feel that we in some way are entitled to a certain future? That we are destined for something, so that when it does not come to be, we are not only surprised, but indignant?
I remember in college, a girlfriend sobbing over lost love. She was crying for the children that she had already named, and would now not have. How do you comfort someone in grief for what has not happened?
I stopped mourning my dreams right about the time I realized I was living them.
This is what we have.
Please understand: I am not preaching. Or boasting. I struggle. With everything. It's hard to the point of my wanting to give up. It's not for me to tell you here how close I've come.
But I have girls, now. And they are smart, and strong, and brimming with what I could only wish for, but could never have taught them, or given them, if they had not had it in them to begin with.
I was a girl, once. I still am. And I am constantly in awe, constantly learning from, the girls that I have, finally, all around me.
More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt
