A Letter to the Daughter

Dear Ryan

I am writing this letter to say I am sorry about Wednesday night. I am not sorry for what I said. But I am sorry about how I said it. I am sorry about the emotion behind it. I am sorry because I am completely befuddled by being the mother of a 13 year old. And I don't know quite how to do the job correctly.

I can't tell you how my feelings toward you have changed since I have quit my job and been able to stay at home. My feelings are so much.......bigger. Every feeling that I have for you is bigger. More intense. Maybe I have let you become a person. Not that I had to let you for you to start becoming. But that I have acknowledged that you are. A real live person with your own feelings and opinions and agendas.

It has always been a scary thing for me to love another person. I probably don't do it well. I definately don't show love to others well. Even when I think I am doing my best. Even when the love is not fragile and it is not fickle I hold onto it deep inside like a treasure. For it is just that. However, love is a treasure to be shared. I know that with my heart but my anxiety fueled mind keeps me prisoner sometimes.

But with you, I not only have this new and tender love for an amazing and talented young lady who is also my daughter but I have this duty. This responsibility. This stewardship as a mother to make sure that you know you are loved. To make sure you have enough love from your family members that you don't feel you have to go out and find it somewhere else. I feel this mantle about my shoulders every day.

Being a parent is a tightrope act. I can't make all your decisions or you never learn independence. I have to exercise my parental "NO" or else you would choose things that you are not yet old enough for. I can push you toward things and support you in them knowing that at some point simply me giving support is enough to make you rebel from those very things. I can't tell you things are important when I am not showing you by example that they are.

I have given up years of my life for your soccer career. And yet I know some of it is selfish. I love it. I love the game. I love team sports. I love watching you and all the kids get better at something. I love being part of something that has energy. I revere anything that can change so many lives for good. I see it as a positive influence in my life, your life, even your brother's lives are richer for the time they have had to spend on the playground or on the side of the field on a beautiful fall day rather than in front of the TV or playing video games. I am invested.

And then when I see you choosing to be friends with the girl with the worst attitude on the team I cringe. I watch her out on the field. She runs like the wind. She plays hard. Her attitude is fake. She wants to excel. She is involved in the goal. Amazing but then the game ends. Her heavy cloak of attitude is pulled right back on. Immediately. Always. I feel sorry for her but I hold my tongue. She is not a primary player in your life. This is not one of the battles I choose to fight.

But Wednesday night you chose her over your team. Not surprisely, she's too cool to give team cheers. Seen that. Known that. Apparently as a team coach I can overlook that. Apparently as a mother I cannot. I can't allow you to show disrespect to your coach by not participating. I can't allow you to lose out on all the positive rewards of being on a team and becoming part of something that is bigger than you. I can't allow you to be another bad example to all the other girls there. At least not without saying something. And say something I did. In essence, I just said DON'T. I didn't explain why. I was angry and I was disappointed that we were losing. So there was too much emotion in my words as well.

I hope you know why I had to say something to you. I hope I have parented you enough that you know what you did wrong. And I also hope that my love, my pride, my belief in you is the background wallpaper in your heart and these little corrective interchanges that will continue to happen will be exactly that: little.

You are doing so good at the growing up thing. Wow.
Love,
Your mom