Since September, six year old Avery has experienced a lot of changes. Exciting changes for her, like attending school ALL day, losing her two front teeth (yup, the other is missing now too), playing soccer, and wearing her anxiously awaited but truthfully needed, stylish, pink spectacles. These changes for me, are becoming quite apparent each, passing day. Changes that seem to creep up behind me and whisper ever so softly in my open ear,
"Your baby girl is growing up. "
With another child or two of mine I would worry about these changes making them feel insecure or them twisting their small fingers together and holding them tightly in a way that might superstitiously wish them each away. With Avery I don't need to fret. She never mentions caring what others will think. As she dresses for school, combs her hair, puts on her coat, and walks out the door, I know the choices she makes are her own. She beats to her individual drum, and to me her music is inspiring. With her, what you see is what you get, and although it isn't always as reverent or appropriate as her mother would wish, and I might find my fuse running mostly short when dealing with her somewhat outlandish behavior, I too realize that her differences are a gift. She is Miss Avery, with a mind and body of her own in which she embraces with happiness in her little oblivious groove, because she knows no other way.
Quite frankly, I am truly, most graciously relieved, because as her mother I grew up fearing my own music and spending more time than I wished, beating to the drum of my less brave self. I look back now and wish I had been wiser. I wish I had known that doing the things I wanted might not have been easy, but I would have been true to myself, ultimately, feeling more at ease in my individual shoes and unversed, fragile skin.
I carried on my shoulders a heavy sack of insecurities, probably no different or vigorous than anyone else's. Insecurities, none the less, that won battles that I wish I had fought harder for, like in high school when I chose not to play soccer, my favorite sport, my sophomore year because it wasn't "cool" back then, or backing down when wanting to run for junior class president because losing was a much larger risk than my feeble self wanted to take. And those are just a few minute examples of a large pile of regrets that lost the battle to a less heroic self who sometimes just wasn't adventurous enough to pave her individual path.
Avery, I hope you will always know how valuable you are. I hope you will thrive just being YOU. Believe in yourself, because you, my girl, know yourself best. If there is something you like that makes you happy and proud, then go for it. Don't shy away from it because it might not be everyone else's first choice. Know that your losses and failures won't define you unless you let them.
This advice comes from me now, after I've been there and done that. And peacefully, in my late 30's, my sack of insecurities is much smaller. Yes, it's still there, but it seems this wiser self knows better how to tame it. I understand my purpose and embrace my roles enthusiastically. Life is good and the older I get it seems to just get better. I have learned to love big and have chosen happiness. I forgive myself daily, which I know is a must because unfortunately, I'm still making mistakes. I don't strive for perfection but laugh at my inabilities. This once unversed, fragile skin is weathering slowly, and as it does, I find myself accepting the things I cannot change and wanting more to enhance the things I can. Oh boy is it nice to let go and stop stewing over the things I might want for, wish I had or were. Instead I am thankful for the person I am, because each of us are God's gift and when I think of my self as that, simply that and nothing less, I like what I see more and more........
