21 Years of Evie: A Love Letter To My Daughter

Evie turns 21 today.

Twenty-one.

A real adult in the eyes of the world, but always, always my little girl.

If I had to describe her in three words?

Caring. Beautiful. Funny.

That just about sums her up, yet barely scratches the surface.

The day she arrived

I remember the day she was born like it happened yesterday.

She was breech, so I had to have a C section.

No screen, just my birthing music and the theatre lights.

The first thing I saw was a big, blue bum.

“It looks like a turkey!”

I said, probably high on whatever they gave me to paralyse most of my body.

Then they turned her around and… oh. There she was.

“It’s a little girl. She’s beautiful.”

They laid her on my chest before cutting the cord.

She opened one eye, looked at me, and squeaked.

That was the moment we bonded.

From that point on, I promised she would always be safe, loved, fed like a queen, and never go without a roof over her head.

Growing together

We’ve had our share of difficult times, like every single parent family.

But I’ve watched her grow into herself, finding her own ways of coping, expressing, healing, and chasing what makes her feel good.

That’s strength. That’s courage. That’s her.

Once, when she was small, she said, “When I’m happy, my face goes up.”

I told her, “That’s smiling, darling.”

I still think of that moment and smile inside every time.

She’s immersed in the anime world these days.

I don’t understand any of it, but I adore that she’s so passionate about it.

That she’s found her thing.

That she doesn’t care if I get it or not.

The little moments

Lately, the things I treasure most are the fleeting moments.

Giving her a lift somewhere.

Sitting next to me, strapped in, nowhere else to be for ten minutes.

We talk, we argue over music, we laugh.

I secretly love every second when she still needs me.

Hopes for her future

I don’t care about how others define success.

I just want her to feel loved, stable, and happy. Everything else is icing.

And if I could tell her one thing as she walks into the next chapter of her life, it’s this:

I’m so proud of you.

So here’s to you, Evie.
To 21 years of you.
To all the years to come.
To your face going up.
And to love that never quits.