Dear Mama,

Dear Mama,

As you know, at twenty two I remain single. This may seem like an odd way to start this letter, but I promise you it is going somewhere.

As a child I grew up vigorously reading romance novels. I loved reading about the big I love you’s, the I can’t live without you’s, the you make my life perfect. I loved reading about the One Great Love that would sweep me off my feet and change my life for the better. At thirteen I imagined a twenty two year old me with some nameless prince charming living in a nice home with a white pickett fence.

I am far from owning a house, but I am even further from a prince charming. I’m sure thirteen year old me would be disappointed with what I would view as the lack of love in my life. But as I have gotten older I have realized that while I still would like a prince charming, he will not be the one and only person to love me unconditionally. Mainly, because I realize Mama you have already done so.

You have been there for the good, the good grades, the getting into university, the vacations we take, the winning of awards, the volunteering, the healthy habits, and every other win big and small I have had.

You have been there for the bad, for the bullying, the exams, the bad grades, the unhealthy habits, the panic, the fights, and every other loss big and small I have had.

You are the one who has given me the big I love you’s. You have loved me at my worst when all I have been able to do is choke on my own anger, words forming a knot in my throat. You have loved me when I have been unable to get out of bed, stuck under my covers as if they were made of steel. You have loved me when I have cried and panted and wheezed out my sorrow and stress. You have loved me when I have been unable to love myself. You have loved me when I have won, no matter how big or little the win. You have loved me when I have laughed with you, and our joy has bloomed like the first flowers of spring. You have loved me when we have spent hours lazing around and chatting about this and that. You have loved me when we have sat in the theatre together, feeling like we’re running off into a different world together. You have loved me through it all, you have loved every version of myself that I have been, you have loved me.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, but you have been my village. You are my mom, my guide, my friend, my teacher, my collaborator, my therapist, my comedian, my shoulder to cry on, my mother. You have nurtured me and shaped me, and I am happiest when I see signs of you in myself. You have helped me become the person I am.

You are the woman I aspire to be told that I am like. You are the type of sister who stays up hours for her family, the type of friend who always offers advice with a large spoonful of kindness, the type of leader who strives to uplift everyone around her, the type of woman who is a pillar in her family and community. You are so many things and so many people, and I am in awe of you.

On my worst days when I have found myself lacking in every way I have comforted myself with the truth that nothing that comes from you can be wholly bad. I am blessed to carry you in my bones, and with it carry your capacity to love.