My Baby Girl: I Promise...

I promise to be around.

Not in the “let’s plan something eventually” kind of way. I mean really be there. Be home. Be present.

If we have enough, I’ll take on less work. I won’t keep chasing more just to prove something. If we’re okay, I’ll stop. I’ll sit still. I’ll know you. You won’t grow up feeling like I was always just out of reach.

I won’t be too busy to be your mom in real time.

I promise your childhood will feel like something.

You’ll wake up to music on the weekends. I’ll make chocolate chip pancakes. Not because it’s a holiday. Just because.

I’ll go shopping with you for no reason. Not to spend a ton of money—just to walk around and tell you you’re beautiful. Because you are. And because someone should say it while you’re still figuring it out for yourself.

I promise I’ll never compete with you.

I don’t need you to become anything for me. You don’t owe me your success. But when you outgrow me, outshine me, out-beautiful me—I won’t be jealous.

I’ll be proud.
Loudly.
I’ll take your picture and brag to strangers. I’ll be the one clapping the loudest for you, always.

I promise to let you be human.

You get to make mistakes. You get to mess up. You get to figure things out and get things wrong. I won’t talk down to you. I won’t shame you.

I’ll help you clean it up and move forward.
That’s it.
That’s the job.

I promise you won’t come home to no one.

I know what that feels like—coming home to a quiet, empty house. To silence. To feeling like no one’s waiting for you.

You’ll never come home wondering where I am. I’ll be there. Even if I’m just in the kitchen doing dishes. Even if we’re not doing anything big. You’ll know I’m there.

I promise to protect you.

I’ll never leave you with people I don’t trust. If someone makes you uncomfortable, that’s enough. You don’t need a reason. You say no, and I’ll back you up.

I’ll never force you to hug or kiss anyone. Your body is yours. Always.

I promise to keep you safe in real ways.

I will never fucking hit you. You won’t have to flinch at home. You’ll feel calm. Grounded. Like someone’s always got you.

Because I do.

I promise to tell you the truth about your dad.

That he was a hero. That he gave up everything for what he believed in. That he saw things no one should have to, and still tried to be kind.

That he was the most handsome man I’ve ever known. That he gave you that face I love so much I could cry just looking at it.

That we loved each other—even if it didn’t last. That at one point, I saw forever in him. And more than anything, we wanted you. You weren’t an accident. You were the plan. We made our family on purpose.

I’ll tell you the stories.
I’ll show you the pictures.
You’ll never have to guess where you came from.

I promise to always want to hear about your day.

Even when you’re older. Even when you’re busy. Even if it’s just “I’m tired.”

You can tell me the bad stuff.
I won’t get mad.
I won’t shame you.
I’ll help you.
That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

I promise you’ll never see love used as a weapon.

You won’t grow up watching someone disrespect me while I pretend it’s normal. You won’t learn to call cruelty “passion” or fear “loyalty.”

You’ll see love that’s safe. Love that’s calm. Love that holds without hurting.

I promise to never scare you.

I won’t scream at you. I won’t throw things. I won’t break your trust just because I’m upset.

You’ll never feel unsafe with me.

I promise I won’t leave you.

I won’t kick you out. I won’t abandon you. I won’t turn away from you. My mom taught me that.

I’ll be here. Every day. Until I can’t be anymore.
And even then—I’ll have left you enough love to carry you through.

You are it for me.

You are my wildest dream.
My best decision.
My whole heart.

And you’ll never have to wonder if you’re loved.
You’ll know.