To My Future Children

They will call you ugly. They will taunt you, hurt you, pull you until you snap. You will fall and then the weight of their words will crush you. They’ll say you’re fat. Why don’t you work out? You eat too much. You eat too little. Are you anorexic? We might be poor. What are you wearing? That doesn’t match. Where is that from? And you will shake from the tops of the frizzies on your imperfect hair down to your chipped toenails shoved into your Payless sandals until you shatter. I will try, oh I will. I will try to hold you, pick up the discarded pieces and put my babies back together. It won’t work. Pieces of you will be torn off by the social gauntlet. You will be judged from the moment you are born until the second your name is lost in the oblivion of time. They will judge you on everything from the obvious, like what you look like, to the seemingly innocent, like the off-brand yogurt you bring in your lunch every day.

I will unconditionally love you and yet that is not enough. The love I never knew I could feel before I met you, the kind that transcends human understanding. You all know the type. Yet, I can not save your soul.

I hope, though, that I can teach you to save yourself. Teach you what my mother taught me and one of my best friends reinforced, which is that pain comes in waves. The first stone falls and the first wave rises, crashing over your head. The waves will keep coming, but smaller each time until the pain is but the tide lapping at your heart. You will rush around, trying to find all the pieces of yourself before the next round hits while I look on at you frantically trying to put yourself back together. Pieces of me will die too.

I want you to know it’s okay.

You will learn the best way to battle the waves. Everyone has a different method and you will find yours. Learn to emerge from the water whole and then you must, please learn to forgive. Hardening your heart only hurts yourself and blinds you. Forgive those who hurt you. Forgive their mistakes and recognize that pain is a cycle. Those kids are hurting, confused, overwhelmed and in pain they may never comprehend. They carry it in their small hearts and they must pour it onto you in order to save themselves from completely drowning. You may choose to continue the cycle by absorbing their pain until you must in turn pour it onto the next victim of the cycle or drown. Or, you can choose to drain your sorrow and rid the world of a little more pain.

We are all destined to be vessels of goodness. Make as much room in your heart, soul and mind as you can for the good things in life. Break the cycle. Don’t let life drown you.