I cannot wait until I become a mother. It's something I've felt like I should be all my life. I'm particularly drawn to the thought of having my own daughter, although if I have a son I will love him all the same.
I have high hopes for my future children. I'm excited to hold them in my arms and raise them to their full potential. I hope that I can teach them all the lessons of life that I wish I knew sooner.
When it comes to having a daughter, though, I am scared. I am scared that she will one day get her heart broken by a boy with bad intentions. I am scared that one day she will stay up all night, crying into her pillowcase, wondering why someone she cared about so much could hurt her so bad.
I pray that my future daughter will never experience a pain I am all too familiar with. I pray she will never meet a boy who promises her the world only to strip her of her happiness. The last thing I would want is the daughter who I raised up to be strong and to be fearless to feel as if losing a boy is the end of her world. But because I wear my heart on my sleeve and I feel everything so quickly at such extreme volumes, I would not be surprised if my daughter is the same.
I know exactly how it will go. She'll be nineteen years old and she'll meet a boy while away at school who whispers sweet nothings into her ear. She'll be excited because she hasn't experienced love much and the thought of someone making her their everything excites her. Quickly this boy will go from a stranger to her whole world, they'll stay up much later than I wish she would kissing in her dorm bed or in his parked car. They'll do things that she won't tell anybody. She'll make him her whole world, placing her happiness in the palm of his hand.
And just as fast as these feelings came, they will disappear. The boy who used to smile at her and call her his everything will start to blow her off. They'll go from seeing each other constantly to never speaking again. She'll question her every action, her every word, wondering where things went wrong. She'll beat herself up, she'll cry and cry, she'll convince herself love is something she will never have.
Dear God, please save her from this. She will likely wear her heart on her sleeve like me, making her an easy target. I hope to teach her all the lessons of love that I never knew and I hope I do a good enough job. But if I don't, please save her from this.
I'd never want anyone to feel the pain I've felt, let alone the heart it took me nine months to build.