I’m traveling this week, far far away from my beloved. It’s only been part of a day, and while I love stretching out across a giant bed all by myself, I miss him.
It’s no secret that we had problems at the start of our marriage. In spite of it – or perhaps because of it, we’ll celebrate our fifth anniversary in a few weeks. He is the first person in my life that I believed loved me for exactly who I am. When we met, I was making a mess of my life and he was hiding the mess of his. We didn’t fix everything when we got married, that would have been impossible. It took time, and effort, and faith in the love we shared. Because of this man, I was able to see and accept the mountains of love from others too.
I want to make a series of posts this week… a week’s worth of acknowledgement of what love really is. The reason this is important to me is because I’m about to have a daughter, because my adventure of motherhood is just beginning. The love I feel for my daughter is primitive and fierce. I know it will grow, change and even be challenged by the life we’ll face together. The one thing I think is most important is unconditional love.
I will love my daughter because of everything she is. Not because of how her actions reflect on me; not because of how I see myself in her. I will love her when she succeeds, when she fails, when she pushes me away with both hands. I will love my daughter through her awkward days, through her growing pains, through her twenties. I will love my daughter and every ounce of her ever-developing soul.
Her father opened that part of me, healed that part of me. Of the many things I want her to experience, the feeling that her parents don’t love her for exactly who she is will never be one. It will be something that will set us apart, my daughter and I. And I couldn’t be happier for her. Because love is not something measured, it is just given.