To my child,
I have constructed this letter so many times and have failed to finish. There has never been a doubt in my mind that you were not created out of love. You were created from an instrument that I cannot play because it plays itself. There has never been a doubt in my mind that your father doesn’t love you because he does. The only thing I’ve constantly doubted is the world I just brought you into. I have not decided if earth is Heaven or Hell and either way, I don’t know if this world will ever be good enough for you.
To my mother,
There has never been a doubt in my mind that I was created out of love. You held me for nine months in your womb, guarding against any attack that would prevent my growth. I was your greatest gift to my father. I have never doubted he has loved me, even when he, himself, does not understand the true feeling of love. The only thing I have ever doubted is the world you brought me into. It is not because I feel the world will never be good enough for me. It is because humanity developed the ability to create life and continually finds way to destroy it. Humans condemn each other for not having the same skin colors, not believing in the same God and so many other things that destroy massive populations. You and Father created me out of the greatest abundance of love but no matter how much of that love I try to reciprocate to the world, it never seems to be good enough. It is not if the world is good enough for me, it is if the world deserves its Creation.
There has never been a doubt in my mind that you were created out of love. You were the greatest gift I ever received. Holding you for the first time, in my arms, gave me the realization that I had not truly lived a fulfilling life until that moment. I have never doubted your mother’s love being the equivalent of mine. The only thing I have ever doubted is the world I brought you into. It is does not put me at ease when you walk out the door every day. I feel in some ways; I have educated you and in others I have not. I have told you how cruel human beings are and how you will constantly be judged, simply for things like your hair flowing freely and unrestrained. You did not have to grow up in the era when segregation was a normalcy or when women were paid pennies compared to a man’s dollar. But you are growing up in the era where humans constantly strive for perfection and ways to outdo each other. In an era where your phone captures the beauty of the world, when all you really must do is open your eyes. I wonder sometimes if you will reach your fullest potential, not because you lack anything. I wonder if the world will allow you to be whatever you want to be. Rupi Kaur wrote that the closest thing to God on this earth is a woman’s body. It is where life comes from. Yet, we continue to destroy life.
There has never been a doubt in my mind that you created me in your vision. I have constantly struggled with your perception of me. Was I a failure numerous times to you? I never really want that answer. I have seen this world, in many different images and I have concluded that we have failed you, as humans. We cherish the diamonds but not the labor put in to attain them. We run from history because we don’t like to look in the cracked mirror. That would mean we have to admit we have flaws. I wake up every day and think to myself, have I completed my prophecy. Is this what life is? We are trained to think we work; we make money and we provide for our families. We enjoy simple pleasures, nothing too extravagant. We are foolish to think that is the primary reason for our existence. I have tried to find happiness in money, men, careers, anything anyone can think of. I have never found the real thing called happiness. That’s it isn’t it? That is the true prophecy. Finding the real measure of happiness. The world does not deserve what you created but you do not consume us with your anger as you should. You consume us with your forgiveness, hoping we will reach the highest conceivable mountain. I’m trying to be worthy of reaching the mountain closest to you.
Taya, daughter and your creation