An age I dreaded since you were three and discovered that your tongue could point out of your mouth like a dart.
The age I was sure would end me, only if your torturous angry squeal didn't kill me eardrums-first a decade earlier.
An age that, somehow, marked the beginning of what was sure to be the end of our glorious run at super duo.
The age when you would defy, desert, deny, demolish, and all around de-love me.
What I failed to factor into this uncharted territory was fourteen.
Holy moly. Fourteen sucked. Hard.
It was a beautiful tragedy and I wouldn't drown in that sea again for any amount of coffee. (Says the mother of two more girls coming up behind you.)
But I learned so much last year. From you.
I realized your strength. I stood in awe of your belief in yourself. I proudly watched you own yourself in ways I will never master. I fall in love with you, my first love, anew every day. I have never respected a girl the way I do you.
And it has everything to do with only you.
You are no one's creation - no one else's hard work. You are magnificent and awesome completely of your own energy. And, believe me, I love to take credit for every little thing I can. You, my eldest love, are your own young woman - walking, talking, "singing", "dancing", believing, loving, being of your own accord.
I have never had the pleasure of knowing anyone more beautiful, worthy, intelligent, strong, or genuine than you. And, I couldn't be more proud to call you my daughter.
Yes, the first time I thought of who you would be as a teenager, I was terrified.
Now I stand at the top of this mountain and all I can see is how short the journey from toddler to teen was. And I'm not afraid anymore.
We are safe together. Thank you for that.
Thank you for forcing hugs before I can brace myself.
Thank you for getting so much better at playing the clarinet.
Thank you for still posting pictures of us on Instagram with the caption "my favorite person".
Thank you for being so incredibly stubborn and hardheaded and for reminding me where you get it.
Thank you for not being one of those girls.
Thank you for letting me borrow your Chucks almost as often as you borrow my clothes.
Thank you for being patient with me as I adjust to you.
You are worth every hard fought battle.
Always,
Mama
