To My Little Girl

To My Little Girl,

At just twelve years old, you are the absolute strongest woman I know. From your very beginning you have been a force to be reckoned with as you've beat every obstacle thrown at you. While you've had your days that I could see it in your eyes that you could break at any moment, you've stood tall and become stronger than I could ever have hoped for you. While I'm sorry that you've had to be that strong, I'm so proud of you for it.

You came into this world four months early and at only a pound and a half they had told me to prepare for the worst. I had been through that worst case scenario once before and I knew mentally I couldn't handle it again. But you fought to stay here with us and I didn't have to. You came home from the hospital months before anyone thought you would have and didn't even have to bring the oxygen with you. You were a fighter.

Your father left for war before you were even a year old. I was so scared that it would permanently scar you to have him gone so long at such an early age. I was scared that you wouldn't get everything you needed only having a mother at home-one who was on edge and terrified of the phone ringing at that. But you were the tiniest, happiest, most joyful child any of us had ever gotten to be around. You were a fighter.

You were five when he and I got divorced. I was torn. I didn't know if you witnessing the fights or having to deal with a divorce would affect you more. By the time I figured it out and explained it to you the best way I could you were happy for us. You only wanted to see us be happy again. You were only five but so wise already. You were a fighter.

You were ten when you decided to tell me that the worst thing imaginable had happened. You held your head so high and talked through everything without wavering. You knew that by breaking the silence everything would change. You knew that things could only get better and you trusted me to fight for you and with you. But you were the fighter.

You're twelve now. We're about to go to trial. One of the people you were supposed to be able to trust the most in this world betrayed that trust in the worst way possible and continues to do so as he forces this in front of a jury. When I told you that you have to testify and that he'll be there you were glad that he'll finally have to pay. You weren't sad for yourself. You're a fighter.

The first dozen years of your life have made you fight. They've made you tough. But you never lost your joy though. You never lost your twisted little sense of humor or your ability to make everyone around you laugh. I know you may think I'm hard on you some days. Please always remember that it comes from a place of love and wanting to help you find that balance between the fighter and the happy little girl. I know the hand you were dealt wasn't fair. You have taken this all in with so much grace and understanding that I aspire to handle the bumps in my road the way you have handled yours. Just a couple more months and you won't have to be such a fighter anymore.