Happy half birthday! Yep, I’m exactly 6 months late with your annual birthday letter. I have lots of excuses that actually are really good, but few that I can discuss in my blog’s semi-private public forum.
Earlier tonight as you were studying for finals I said, “I’ve missed you.” When I was just now tucking you into bed, I told you what I really meant when I said I’ve missed you. Here’s the gist of it:
I know you think I’m saying this only because I’m your mother, but it’s true (and not just for me)! You are a lovely person who people enjoy knowing. As 2018 started, I felt like I was finally reaping some of the things God, Dad, and I had been sowing in your life for so many years. You were finding your stride and becoming someone I really liked being around. What bliss for this mama’s heart!
As is natural, you started asserting your independence and a deep drive for more freedom. That, plus your desire to be known and loved through a romantic relationship (coupled with hormones [pun intended]), resulted in some crossed wires and a few tangles. We began clashing in ways we never had before, and had to do a LOT of work regarding boundaries and defining your identity. {Yes, I know this is all sounding vague and slightly ominous, but I’m trying to respect your privacy while also being faithful to the emotions we endured. I think even with the vagueness, you’ll know what I’m referencing.}
It became a hard year, this move from age 14 to 15 (and now 15-and-a-half). In mid-June, tensions coiled and I honestly couldn’t figure out what to write in your annual birthday letter. Time pulled us into July, and I was even more lost.
We had started the year slowly dipping our toes into topics I never dreamed I’d be discussing with you (at least not THIS early!), and then canon-balled into the deep end of those topics as September came to a close. October was almost as dangerous to my heart as your first three months of life (I haven’t forgotten you, Postpartum Depression), but it was also a remaking that had its own desolate beauty.
As I was telling you tonight at bedtime, I feel like you’ve re-centered and come back to being you. And that’s what I meant when I said I’ve missed you.
Girl, you bring light into the world. The dimness of this past half year feels like it has finally been suspended and your light has returned. But, impossibly, it’s somehow burning brighter because now you are more aware of who you are and who you are not.
It’s beautiful to see, even if it came at a cost. (But don’t all things that are worth having?)
I hope this year has given you a better understanding of how much your father and I adore you - and you’ve gained real-life knowledge that we will always - ALWAYS! - fight for you. You are worth fighting for, my girl.
Happy half birthday, Katie. You are so loved!
Always,
Mom
