Dear Little Girl

Dear little girl, there are so many things I wish I could tell you. There are so many things you need to know, need to hear, need to feel. Little girl, who stands in the middle of a crowded Wal-mart in a pink tutu, little girl with a plastic wand in your hand and a matching tiara on your head, little girl singing Over The Rainbow at the top of your lungs, for no one but yourself.

Dear little girl, you ar t. You are, no matter how many times you fall on your face, as long as you get back up. You are, no matter if you don't win the spelling bee, or get the top grade on the math test. You are, even if you can't remember what eight times six is. Little girl, as long as you keep dusting yourself off and trying again, you will never really fail.

Dear little girl, you ar e. Sing loud, sing proud, no matter who tries to shush you. Do not shrink into yourself because you feel you are different or strange or odd. You are the princess, you are the diva, you are the goddess. You will blossom, but you cannot if you try to fit into someone else's mold. You don't fit the mold. Don't try to, my little one.

Dear little girl, you ar l. The messy chocolate hair with the choppy bangs falling in your eyes, the pink jumper with the white sweater underneath. You are free and young and have no doubt about yourself. You do not need to glance into the mirror to know that you are fabulous. You are, and you are without effort and you know that.

Dear little girl, you ar d. You are Mommy and Daddy's world. You're the little Angel. Everyone knows you will be great one day. Everyone is so eager to see who you grow into and want nothing more than for you to shine. Everyone will do whatever it takes to see you achieve your dreams, will do anything to make sure you sparkle.

Dear little girl, you ar g. You do not cry when you are the last one picked for the kickball team, You do not cry when you are told "no", and your lip doesn't even quiver when you are not invited to the sleepover like all the other girls. You are not like those other girls, and I never want you to be.

Don't you see, my darling, that I never want you to be like me? I never want you to hate yourself for your failures, or to feel like you don't belong anywhere. You do not have to let the boy who calls you pretty remove your shirt or touch you to be radiant. Never be afraid to wear shorts because someone may see the razor cuts along your thighs because you felt alone and needed release. Never let anyone make you cry, my little one, and you will never be like me.

You will never trade the tutu, wand, and tiara for the form fitting jeans and a nondescript blouse. You will never keep your eyes down out of shyness, you will never quiet your song. Not if you remember the things no one ever told me, not if you believe in yourself.

Dear little girl, please do not grow up to be me.