My Daughter, The Warrior.

 

When my daughter is born, I will not weep for her like generations of mothers before me did.
I will raise my daughter to be a warrior.
I will raise my daughter to question everything.
Yes, even me. For I am human and have been corrupted by the world, and while my daughter is young, she is innocent. Pure.
And I believe us corrupted adults could learn from our children.
I will not teach my daughter that if a boy is mean to you, that it means he likes her.
For I do not wish my daughter to go through the same brainwashing, abusive relationships I did—solely because everyone said,
“Boys will be boys.”
And I grew into a woman believing if he demeaned me, it meant he loved me.
I will not force dresses and dolls on my daughter,
I will teach her there is no such thing as “boy toys” and “girl toys”,
there are simply toys.
I will teach my daughter that her self worth as a woman is not found within the length of her hair, but rather by what thoughts reside in the deepest crevices of her heart.
I will teach my daughter that she is more than a pretty face,

She is brave.
She is brilliant.
She is loved.
She is imaginative.
She is loyal.
She is hopeful.
She has a gentle, 
loving,
heart
that weeps with
kindness and sincerity.

I will teach my daughter to apply red war paint beneath her eyes, and I will ready her for battle,

For in a world ruled by men,
Women can never rest,
Can never stop fighting for equal footing,
And she will be ready,

For she is my daughter,
And my daughter is a warrior.

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