Life: A message to my future daughter

I want to start off by letting you know how happy I am that you’re in my life and to let you know you’re beautiful.

At the time of writing, I am 24 years old. I have my Bachelors in Psychology and I am working with at-risk adolescent girls. My life is far from perfect. I am single, live with my parents, and only work part-time. Some times, I wonder why I should keep going. Other times, I don’t want to stop.

I am writing to let you know that I struggled to get you. See, at the age of 21, I realized that I wanted a daughter. But there were problems. I was gay and depressed. Young and immature. And all I could think about was how bad things had gotten with my family.

Back then, my family life wasn’t the best. Your grandmother and uncles had been deported, one of them was missing, and I was hiding my secret from everyone. So, I moved to San Francisco to escape. I know. What a scary and selfish thing to do. To leave your family and be on your own. But you know what? Those two years were some of the best in my life. I was exploring a new city, making new friends, and being open with who I really was.

You see, I always struggled to make friends. Real ones. Ones who still wanted to be my friend even if I shut down on them repeatedly. And on those cold nights in San Francisco, surrounded by my new friends studying, drinking, or laughing at the randomness of our lives, I felt accepted. And for a brief moment, I was happy.

When I left San Francisco to move back in with my family, I realized that I had to become an adult. But I never was good with change. And boy did I struggle. I was jobless. Poor. Lonely. And my depression worsened. I thought about leaving this world. And how nobody needed me.

I hope you don’t think about the same things I once thought. Or, I hope you would be able to talk about those feelings with me. Things do get better. I can promise you that much.

Because when I was about to give up on the world, the world showed me that it wasn’t going to give up on me. I ended up getting a job working with at-risk adolescent girls. And just like that my life changed. I actually looked forward to waking up in the morning. And taking care of those girls, who never experienced a loving home or were struggling to find hope in their young lives, gave my life purpose. And when I held their daughters, looked in their eyes, and saw their smile, it reminded me of what I wanted in my own life.

I wanted you.

I don’t know how you’ll come to be, but I can’t wait to meet you. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms for the first time. I can’t wait to run around the house chasing you and even though I know I’ll get tired, hearing your laugh will be worth it. I can’t wait to figure out a way for you to fall asleep on those late nights where you are having a hard time sleeping. I can’t wait to hear you speak your first words, to finally have a conversation with you, and to understand the world as you see it. I can’t wait to see you grow into the most beautiful person you can be.

So, I would like to thank you. For being there for me even when you weren’t. And I hope that makes sense someday. And if it doesn’t, I’ll make sure I’ll be right by your side to explain it to you.