My darling, powerhouse of a first born daughter, Sophie, turned eight years old this month. To quote her card, “Eight is great!” It really is. She is the epitome of girl power self confidence. School is an amazing place and math is not intimidating but an exciting challenge. She rides a bike with no hands, and when she grows up she wants to be a basketball player and go to graduate school. I want to preserve this moment in time for her – before girls become catty and she thinks her butt is too big and she still thinks that I am cool and beautiful and I have the answers to her all of her questions.
Since her first birthday, I have always felt that it was a very important day for ME. I gave birth. I experienced a life changing and defining moment. My soul and girl parts will never be the same again. Sophie was just there – she has no recollection of her birth-day, but I surely do.
Until this year. Something shifted inside of me. I was able to look at her, not as my daughter that I can lay claim to and think, “Look at what I did today!” But as Sophie - an energetic eight year old girl who is excited about her birthday, a special day just for her.
It has taken me eight years to understand that Sophie’s birthday is about her. It is not about what I experienced that day. It is all about celebrating Sophie.
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