To my darling girl, because I write much more easily than I speak:

Hey, love. I've been meaning to tell you some things. And I need you to know that they are true. Without a doubt.

First of all, that I look up to you more than anyone I know. It may seem a little backward, but how could I not? You are beautiful. Beautiful. Just ridiculously crazy unimaginably lovely. Your entire being exudes beauty because of the goodness that accompanies it.

You know how to be kind, which makes you mature beyond your age. The people around you notice: You're never cruel, you don't say hateful things, you're just so kind. The simple kind, the say-hi-to-someone-who-doesn't-think-you-know-their-name kind of kind. The most important kind of kind.

I catch myself gasping with admiration at your bravery. Watching you sing in front of so many people, an age group that has the potential to say some of the most mean-hearted things, I couldn't help but wish that I had even an ounce of that courage--that courage that seems like it should be much too large for your little body to hold. And then you cut your hair. And you knew that people might say things... Ali, all your hair's gone!... But it was so pretty and long!... But you didn't care in the slightest, and I was so proud of you. You're one of those people who doesn't give a {jam} ;) about what other people think, which is truly amazing.

You fill every day with vibrancy. You are such a little creator, you know. Those prettiest songs you compose for the guitar, those loveliest words you write down--it's all perfect. It's all something new, beautiful, and good that you've contributed to the world.

You know where you're going. You know what you want. And I don't want you to be like me when I was your age--just waiting. I want you to go get it. I want you to do whatever it is you want. You can. You can. Your heart is so strong, so wise, and it won't lead you astray.

I want you to know that boys, they come and go, and well, sometimes maybe one will like your cousin more, but that doesn't matter. That was one boy, but he's not the boy. Not for you. Someday, one will come along who will love you just as much as I love you--so much that his heart would rip in two if he ever lost you--so much that he can't find the words to describe it because every time he tries, he only ends up crying.

You deserve everything, darling. Everything and more. And I'm sorry that I can be a brat sometimes, but just so you know, there is no other sister that I would rather have than you. You help me grow and be kinder and realize when I am being selfish. No one else could do that as well as you.


With love, always with love,

Your adoring sister


{You were right, by the way, last night. That is your thing. And I'm not trying to take it from you or anything like that. I could never become as good as you, anyway. I guess I just wish I were as cool and wonderfully talented as you are. I was trying to be like you.}

Provoking Thoughts from a Stranger (or Kindred Spirit).

I've been thinking a lot lately about if I am a feminist. (Especially with this going around the Interwebs a few weeks ago.) If I am a feminist, I doubt I'm a very extreme one.

So then I stumbled upon this excerpt from the lovely Meg Fee:

"And then I began to think about how if I attempted to write (or okay, let's call a spade a spade, blog) about attraction then Anonymous would be sure to skewer me because heaven forbid a woman knows what she wants--physically or otherwise. So we can then add knowing-what-we-want to the list of things women are not encouraged to do, which I'm pretty sure also includes aging-gracefully and the-right-to-vote (which this last one I thought we took care of in 1920 but I came across a tweet today which led to a blog and apparently it's a thing again) and can we then take a minute to talk about how it's women that are holding each other back? How each and every last one of us does not proudly admit to being a feminist is simply beyond me. I am a feminist. This does not mean I burn bras. This does not mean I hate men. This means I think women have a voice and an unparalleled strength and a unique set of gifts. Women have birthed empires. And if you try to use religion on me and start talking about your god versus my god and how it's the Lord's will that women submit to a male authority then I will simply lose my shit. I mean, I will. I will lose my shit right here, right now, right over all that's to follow. Because the whole your god, my god thing is enough to make me end the conversation right then and there--it's entitled and possessive and wholly small in a way that seems so very against the spirit of things."

And that is precisely how I feel. Colorful language and all.

(And look, I don't know much, but what I do know is that if it weren't for feminists, my mom would not be where she is now, vice president of a successful and steadily growing company, able to provide well for our family for eight years and counting. That couldn't have happened thirty years ago and I'd say that's pretty damn amazing, not to mention incredibly important.)