I’m writing this
blog for my little girl, Clara. When I was a teen, I designed a dream for
myself that included many aspirations for my career and my home life. First, I
wanted to be an adventurous single woman charting my path and changing the
world through investigative journalism—telling the story of the people who didn’t
otherwise have a voice. The next part of the dream always included marriage and
babies. I wanted to fall in love with my Prince Charming and I especially hoped
for the opportunity to parent a little girl so I could share with her, woman to
woman, my experiences in order to help her become the person she was meant to
be.
God has certainly
blessed me. I have been married to my best friend for a decade-and-a-half. We have two
amazing sons and one feisty, loving little girl. My husband and I are also the
parents of two babies who have gone to heaven before us and they are always
with us. The reflections to come in this space are not just meant for Clara,
but for her brothers, too, and anyone else willing to read them. While I may
tackle some sticky topics here at times-my personal views of faith and politics
to name two—I do not intend any disrespect to the reader nor do I seek to
offend anyone. In fact, I am determined to write to my daughter as if there is
no one else in the room. As her mother, that is certainly my right and it is
certainly anyone else’s not to follow or read or share. I respect the opinions
and views of others. My faith and upbringing demand that. Thanks for showing
me the same.
Note that the
names used in these blog posts are not real, but the people behind the names
certainly are. I am changing the names to give my daughter plausible
deniability someday (when she grows beyond her toddler years and into her
adolescence and may, at times, not want anything to do with me).
Also note that the
creation of this blog is part of an exercise in which I’m trying to find my
voice. I am a very opinionated person, but I suspect that people outside of my
inner circle do not know that. I despise conflict and I never want to be the
source of anyone else’s anger, hatred, or discomfort. This is why I rarely
speak up outside of friendly company about my faith or my positions on so-called
controversial issues. I rarely insert myself into other people’s business. In
many ways, these are good instincts.
But there’s a flip side. There is a time, Clara, when silence is as bad as or even worse than
speaking up and maybe saying the wrong thing. Sometimes the desire to protect
myself or not offend anyone hurts me more than anyone else. When I come home
from anywhere—a meeting, a gathering of friends, a Facebook lurk—and I didn’t
speak up for something that I knew, deep down, I should have, it is painful to
me. Where is my courage? Where is my voice? I am hoping that in speaking with
you through these words, I can find mine, and through the process, help you
whom I love with all my heart.
