Funny Letter From Mom to Daughter

Last summer Annalyn rediscovered a pair of lab goggles that we'd used with a science experiment a couple years ago. At first she used them to protect her optics in the shower, merely quickly, she moved on to wearing them everywhere. Every.Where.
Information technology was adorable.
One weekend we visited some family and a distant relative remarked, "Y'all'd ameliorate break her of that earlier she goes to kindergarten."
I looked at my sweet little girl – running around the yard, swinging a stick and pretending to be some sort of scientific superhero – and I immediately dismissed that annoying fleck of advice. Break my daughter of her imagination and spirit?
I recollect non.
Even though that conversation took place nigh a year ago – and the goggles have been once once more relegated to the wearing apparel-up box – I haven't been able to shake information technology. So today I have a few things to say to my daughter.

Dear Annalyn,
From the moment you lot were formed you accept done the unexpected. From your surprising conception and your refusal to testify us your gender during the sonogram to your conclusion to breathe and eat on your own later on but a few days in the NICU (and weeks earlier you lot should've entered our world), you've forged your own path and by and large washed life your way.
And while at times your strong will and unique personality drives me straight upwards the wall, I wouldn't change it for the earth.
Simply like you tossed aside the nautical chart of developmental milestones for your own timetable, yous scoff at order's expectations and silly things similar generally accepted fashion standards.
Who cares about the color wheel when you lot tin add one more than blinged-out accessory? And who has time to sit nonetheless for braids and bows when you tin shove a mismatched set of headbands on your head and call it adept? And who doesn't need to take a interruption from princess play to crawl nether the dining room table with your toolkit? I mean, really, someone's got to prepare information technology – and Handy Manny isn't showing upward anytime soon!
Y'all honey pretty, pretty pink and princess everything, only you play medico and carpenter and scientist just as often. Information technology makes perfect sense for you to perform at a rock concert, complete a scientific discipline experiment and create some other arts and crafts project – all in ane day.
And when you lot work on those arts and crafts projects? You chafe against the conventional advice to "stay in the lines," just you tin can somehow use your safe pair of scissors and glue stick to make a surprisingly realistic rocket ship.
I Love THESE THINGS ABOUT Y'all.
Hither'southward the thing, Baby Girl. I've known since one of my psych classes in college (yeah, that long ago) that I'm an extremely high self-monitor, while your dad is way downwardly on the low stop of that spectrum. In other words, I find – and intendance – a whole lot about what other people are doing, thinking and feeling – while he, well, doesn't.
In those moments when I'grand nudging his leg under the tabular array to remind him that nosotros shouldn't say or do THAT in front of THEM, and he responds by asking, loudly, "Why did you kick me?!" instead of adjusting his behavior or changing the topic, it puts me over the edge.
But in those moments when I see you, a miniature version of him in so many ways, stubbornly refuse to clothing a hat LIKE EVERY OTHER Educatee on Crazy Hat Day or choose to wear goggles to the farm or a tutu to the grocery store, well, it only makes me fall in love with both of yous even more.

And it makes me want to exist like you. Not the daughter who cried considering her jeans came from Sears and not v-7-ix, and not the girl who wore bangs fifty-fifty though her forehead wasn't fabricated for them and no corporeality of hairspray could hold their whorl or elevation. It makes me want to be like you, my silly girl who walks to the beat of her ain drum, and not the girl who is embarrassed by her pocket-sized firm or plain wearing apparel or twisty career path or plus-size size.
Stay weird, Sweetpea. Don't listen to people who say things like, "You should break her of that," or "Why aren't you [fill up in the blank] like anybody else?" YOU ARE Non Anybody ELSE. You lot were wonderfully and fearfully made by the most Creative Creator, and I will take downward anyone who wants to squash your uniqueness.
Stay weird, Babe Girl. Because weird is Ever meliorate than boring, better than vanilla, better than like-everyone-else.
Stay weird, because not everyone tin be weird…but like not everyone can be amazing and world-changing.
Stay weird, no matter what that means.
– Stay weird when that means saying "no" when anybody else says "why not?"
– Stay weird when that means staying home when everyone else goes to the party, and stay weird when that means trying something new when anybody else is afraid to leave their comfort zone.
– Stay weird when you choose an instrument or sport, and stay weird when y'all choose a major and a career.
– Stay weird when that means putting family first and stay weird when that means taking time for yourself and that God-sized dream He'due south given y'all.
– Stay weird when it ways joining up and stay weird when information technology means standing alone.
– Stay weird when it ways reading the book instead of seeing the movie.
– Stay weird when you salve your money or spend information technology, travel the world or stay close, smile for the picture or brand a dizzy face up.
– Stay weird when yous find the cure, build the house, write the song or ally the prince.
Stay weird.
Dearest,
Your mom who's just at present learning to be happy with her own weirdness
What practise you think near being weird? If you could write a letter to your child, what would you say?
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Photos by D Sharon Pruitt
Source: https://marycarver.com/2013/07/stay-weird-a-letter-to-my-daughter/
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