Dear daughter, I hope one day we can be friends.
I hope one day we have more discussions than arguments, conversations than fights, laughs than lectures.
I hope one day you understand that I am always on your side, always cheering you on, always believing in you.
I hope one day you understand that your joy is my joy and your pain is my pain. I hope we can have long conversations about your hopes and fears, your dreams and your failures. I hope we can laugh until we cry. I hope we can hug to ease each other’s burdens.
I hope one day you understand that disappointing you is hard for me, that I crave your attention, that I would do anything to keep you safe.
I hope one day I see you become a mother yourself, and I have a front-row seat to watch the joy your child brings to you. I hope I can give you useful advice. I hope you ask for my help.
But most of all, I hope one day we can be friends.
Today is not that day, sweet girl.
It might not be this week or even this year.
Today I’m not your friend, but I will always be your mother. Sometimes I can be both, but not today.
Today I show my love by setting boundaries and limits.
Today I show my love by saying no.
Today I love you enough to let you fail, to not give in to your every whim, to withstand the barbs you throw at me.
Today I question your choices, your screen time, your social media. I want to trust you but I am not yet sure if you are trustworthy.
And at the end of each day, no matter what wars we have battled, my hope never changes—I hope one day you know my love for you never wavered, I tried my best, and I’m so proud to be your mother.
But most of all, dear daughter, I hope one day we can be the best of friends.
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