to my future daughter

Dear daughter,

I hope that I eventually decided to have you, not because I didn’t want to, but because if all goes to shit like the UN predicts, I don’t want to lose one extra person to quite possibly the end of the world.

I’m sorry for starting this letter so grim, but I am eighteen after all, so I apologize again for my teenage emo-ness. Who knows, maybe after a few years, I’ll look back on this and laugh at how immature I was. I often like to re-read my old diaries and see what 13-year-old me was occupied with. Mostly daydreams about studying in the States sometimes rants on people being too loud and too mean, a lot of the times strange, strange stories.

I’ve always wanted a daughter, which is very strange because I am seventeen. Like everyone, I’ve pictured my future house, future furniture, (future library), but my mind especially likes to linger on what and how I will raise my daughter, how I will tuck her in bed and read her the same bedtime stories my mother read me, how I will teach her Chinese and English. I daydream about your presence too much.

One image that particularly sticks out to me is at night, when the only light in the room is your faded yellow night lamp, and your eyes are half-open, and I am telling you a story about how a bird saves a mountain, the same one my mother used to tell me. I don’t remember exactly how it goes, for that picture book had long gone, but I seem to remember tearing up after reading it.

I think that my parents raised me with a good educational philosophy in mind, and I hope to do the same. They didn’t really believe in the importance of grades (while still preferring that I didn’t fail school); they let me watch as much television as I want, play as many video games as I wanted (which, as it turns out, is only Plants vs. Zombies). Their strategy of letting me do whatever I want turned out quite well, as I don’t actually play video games nor watch a ton of television.

I’ve always loved pass-me-down books, and once you are here, I’ll make sure to collect all my favorites and pass them down to you. Of course, i’ll have to space them out according to the most appropriate time to give them to you, by which I mean, giving them to you at a time when you’ll get the most out of the book. Of course, you’ll have the choice of which book you read and which you don’t. Except for Harry Potter. I’m very firm on this. And Doctor Who. It’s very long, but we have to watch it together.

I can’t wait to go on adventures with you, to walk with your hand in mine. But I am scared of your place in this world. As I’ve said before, everything’s basically going to shit, and supposedly it is for my generation to fix it. It is rather odd in my mind that the older generations are simply passing down all their shit for us, but sometimes there really is nothing you can do.

Love,

Emma

2 thoughts on “to my future daughter

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