You’re quite possibly the sweetest thing that’s happened to me in my life. You and your mom. I gotta be honest, I never thought I was going to be a good mother. I was always too brash, too ready to dismiss the world.
But I met Spencer, and I met you, and that started to change. Slowly, but surely, you made me see that there’s people in life worth improving for. Choosing me to help raise you and be part of your family is something I never in a million years thought I’d deserve.
And look at you now. You’re such a beautiful soul, I see the light in your eyes every time you smile and laugh. You are every bit like your mother. You’re radiant, you’re stubborn, you’re brave and independent. And talented in droves, amazingly.
Continue to share that with the world. Let the world know that it can’t beat you down. Be happy, thrive. Take life along for the ride.
I want you to know something that took me years to learn: it’s okay to be afraid. Because you’ll get through it, you have it in you. You always have, and you always will. And it’ll make you even stronger.
You’re the best kid ever. And to the moon and back, I am so proud of you, and I love you so much.
I really don’t even know where to begin. I’m going through a lot of life changes and realizations right now so maybe this isn’t the best time to be writing this letter but something prompted me to. Clearly, I’m writing this not even knowing if I’ll ever have children. I had always hoped to have children. It’s what was embedded into my brain. To find the perfect husband and have the perfect family like your grandparents tried to do but as time goes on I’m seeing there’s no such thing as perfect.
First, I want to say I hope I didn’t let you down. I pray I didn’t let you down. I pray I gave or give you nothing but unconditional love. I pray that I treat you like you’re an actual person and that I have let you do whatever you have chosen to do. That I never forced you into anything. That I have always been in your corner and always fought for you and whatever you believe in is right for you.
I grew up in a situation I thought was right but am realizing now is actually very toxic and I am so damn terrified no matter how hard I am trying to break away from that right now I pray so hard I don’t treat you the way your grandparents treated me.
Just know even if I end up not showing it in the end, which would be my biggest fear, know I love you unconditionally and I would do absolutely anything to protect you.
Love,
Your Mother
P.S. I really do hope I’ve done right by you from the start.
I know that we just met, but I wanted to write this letter to you. When your mother told me that I’m your dad. I’m not going to lie, it freaked me out a bit. The reason it freaked me out a bit, is because I was scared, I was going to be like my dad and be the most, terrible father and well, I made a promise to myself that I’m going to be the best dad to you, promise. Sure, I own a comic bookstore and it means a lot to me, but not like you mean a lot to me. You’re more important than some comic bookstore. Businesses can be rebuilt and be replaced but, I can’t replace you and I can’t replace you.
I want you to make a promise me, alright? Don’t let anyone dim your light or they might be answering to someone. Me, and your moms, and your family. This is the order that they would be answering, your family, your moms, and me, and then my family. You’re going to be taking this world by storm when you get older and I know, deep down, you’re going to do AMAZING things and you can bet I will be right there, cheering you on. Every step of the way. I want you to remember these words, Nevertheless, She Persisted. The reason why I told you remember those words, is because if ANYONE tries to stop you, either if it’s family or someone close to you, show them your accomplishments and your voice, because you’re going to be making huge accomplishments. You’re going places Jane Evans, and I am so utterly happy to witness that little spark that you have already.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this. This is really stupid and I don’t even have the right to daydream about having a child after the things I’ve done.
First, to my child that never was,
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you or wish I had done things differently. I had no idea that you were my one and only chance and I’ll never forgive myself for letting you go. I was in such a rough, scary place and I didn’t know who I was or what I was doing or where I was going. I know that it was the best thing for both of us at the time, who knows where you would’ve ended up if I’d had you-- I didn’t want you to end up in the foster system like I did.
I know that it was for the best but I still think about you every single day and wonder where I’d be had I just had you- maybe you would’ve changed my life for the better and I’d be a better person. But that’s also too much to put on one child’s shoulders and that would’ve fucked you up royally.
Even still, I am so sorry and I carry so much love for you. You and no one have any idea.
Now, to the child that never will be,
I think about you every single day and I want to kick myself for fucking up so badly. I know it was him, me, the drugs, everything. I fucked up and my body and you are paying the price. Just like your sibling, it’s probably for the best because I can barely love the people that love me right.
I just…never realized how much I wanted you until I was told I can’t have you.
They say the days are long and the years are short. I didn’t really know what that meant until I became a mom. When you began kindergarten, you were so nervous, but bravely walked into class and couldn’t wait to go back the next day. To me, it feels like that was just yesterday. Oh, how time flies.
I believe with all of my heart that the second half of my life began the day you were born. I didn’t stop being Spencer, but adding Mom, Mother, Mommy to my world is a gift I wouldn’t change for anything. Being the example you need in the world and embracing you as one of my greatest teachers is a role I treasure.
As long as I have breath, I will try to give you the world. So remember, there is nothing I won’t do for you.
You, sweet girl, are the author of your life story. You are the one that decides what kind of life you want to live and that is what I hope you take with you as you grow older. It is something that took me a long time to realize.
What do I wish for you, my sweet darling? What words do I want to impart? Dream big and then dream even bigger. Never apologize for being who you are. Stand tall, believe in yourself, and trust your gut. Take risks. Enjoy the journey. Be your own best friend. Embrace lifelong learning. Don’t be afraid to be smart or to speak your mind or to be too ambitious. Have grit – value both passion and perseverance. When you face tough times, remember, that experience is teaching you resilience. Be kind to yourself and celebrate who you are. And finally, be bold. Find out what makes you happy and then relentlessly pursue it.
My hope is that as you grow, you will tell people that you want to be just like your mom because your mom never settled. THIS. This, Jane, is what I want the most for you: to never settle. Never settle in a relationship you’re unhappy in. Never settle for a job that doesn’t satisfy your passion or purpose, whatever you decide that to be, and never settle when someone tells you you can’t do something. Remember that I’ve taught you that you are capable of doing anything. May you only settle when your soul is filled and your heart is content.
Many people go through life wondering what kind of legacy they will leave behind. Most people rate their success based on their career or how much money they’ve made, the things they’re able to buy or the vacations they’re able to take. But for me, my legacy is you. You are a direct reflection of my life’s work and effort. You are what I will say I am proud to have created and leave behind.
Little one, the world is going to throw things at you. They are going to tell you lies that will seem like pretty truths. And it’s not going to be easy. However, no matter what they say, I want you to believe this one simple truth:
Words could never express how much love I have for you. When I think about you and how lucky I am to be your mom my heart swells with pride. You have been nothing short of amazing, even from such an early age.
While I was pregnant I often wondered what kind of mother I would be and the thought of having a daughter, at times, scared me. I questioned my anxiety and quickly came to the understanding and truth that having a girl scared me because I was a daughter who was relentlessly trying to find herself. I hope to provide you with all my learnings so that I can guide you towards a path of acceptance, love, and freedom to be your own person.
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes and only then would you truly know how much I adore you. Thank you for choosing me to be your mother and for granting me the special gift of raising you. Coming into my life you instantly showed me what unconditional love feels like.
You came without instructions and there are times when I reflect on how I am doing as your mother. Always know that everything I say and do is because I love and care for you. As much as I am here to teach you, you are also here to teach me. They say the role of a parent is to teach their children all about life. I have come to understand that children are here to teach parents what life is truly all about. Emily, I have learned so much from you. The most astonishing thing for me is that I have learned so much about ME since you were born.
I am proud of so many things in my life but nothing beats being a mother to you. I’m blown away by how incredibly smart you are and how sharp your mind is. How, no matter where we are or how few times you’ve been somewhere, you remember the smallest details about your previous experiences in those places, even down to what you were wearing or what was said or what we bought. Things that not even I remember. You, my sweet girl, are wise beyond your years and I know great things are in store for you.
The day I had you was the day I began to look at life through a different lens. You make me a better person – someone who strives to live life each day with an open heart, with more understanding, with more acceptance of myself, with more awareness, with more happiness, and with more love.
From the moment you were born, you sparkled from the inside. Don’t ever let anyone dull that sparkle. Surround yourself with positive people who care, love, support, and inspire you and push away from those that are toxic and negative. In life, you will come across those people who will try with all their might to make you feel small or to make you believe you cannot do it. You CAN do it and can be anything you desire if you just fiercely believe in yourself. You have inherited your father’s kind and generous heart, and I want you to embrace it. I want you to spread kindness like wildfire, just like your father. You are his legacy, and you should be proud to be so much like him.
My world is better having you in it, my love. I know the time will come when the pages of my life end but I know that you will be one of its most beautiful chapters. For this, I am forever grateful.
Words have never been my eloquence no matter how many times people will say otherwise. I simply allow words to flow, such in a way that I allow my art to flow from my heart. And next to your dad, you both are my heart.
I’ve always dreamed of being a dad for as long as I could remember, but the realistic promises of being a good dad was never in my favor. I didn’t have an ideal father figure growing up. I was adopted when I was 3, and as you both are now old enough to know, we don’t speak of your grandparents. But I told myself every day that if I was lucky enough to be a dad, I would take every mistake I witnessed and use it to my advantage of being better.
My promise was to always ensure that you follow your dreams, whether that be a dancer, a doctor, an artist or even a circus clown. It’s the support that I lacked, that drove me far away and into depths that I was stuck in. We’ve always been real and honest with you, your father and I want you to be aware of the world that surrounds us all.
I’m sorry for my anxiety that may squeeze you too tight sometimes. It’s not that I’m trying to suffocate you or make you feel less of the adults that you’re growing to be. I simply just can’t seem to grasp the concept of you growing up. The fears of my own childhood linger in ways that I never anticipated them too and I think that’s why drives me to truly baby both of you and for that I apologize.
Gwendolyn, I know you’re older now and you don’t need your Papa looming over you. I know you’re at the age where you’ll fall in love. (Please just tell him, hija. I spent so many years scared of my own feelings that I almost missed out on your dad). You are such an old soul and you carry yourself with such grace and power I almost forget that you’re only eighteen. I promise to loosen my hold on you and let you explore life more. It’ll take time, but please have patience with me, that’s all I ask.
Lorelei, you are the type of child I wish I could have been. How smart you are consistently makes me sit in awe that you are my daughter. I’ve always wondered if this is what my father would have felt if I was the idealistic son. However, I don’t have an image of an idealistic daughter. You are all that any father could want and be proud of. My only concern is that you are not allowing yourself the freedom to have. You spend such time worrying about friends and your sister, making sure they are taking care of themselves. Please, hija, please enjoy your life. Take care of you, and reach for every possibility you can.
My intentions with you have always been the best, and may not be perfect in practice. But I am sure of one thing. Your dad and I love you both, and we want you all to achieve everything in life you could ever want.
I will do better as your father, but most importantly I will love you for eternity. You have proven me to be a man that I’ve always wanted to be.
To the children I always thought I’d have but never did,
I am not sorry that I never had you. That the future I once dreamed of for myself, long before I understood myself, has not come to be. I would not have been the kind of mother you would have needed me to be.
I am a woman who is impulsive. Who reacts strongly to everything. I am, in many ways, my father’s daughter. My joy is contagious, but my anger is spiteful. It is loud and explosive, it is damaging. No matter how much I have grown, no matter how much I have healed, I cannot guarantee I would not have been the kind of parent my father was to me.
I would not have held the kind of expectations he did, would not have pretended to be perfect. I learned so very long ago that perfection is a harmful standard that nothing, but especially not children, should be measured on. Even still, I would have had expectations. Ones I imagine may not have been good for you either. Ones that I would not know how to help you achieve.
Even now, I am a woman who loves too strongly. I fear that the break ups and the constant in and out of partners who are not your mother, would have caused more harm to you than it ever has to me. That our home would have become one of turmoil. The kind of place children should never be.
However, just because I am not sorry you never existed and acknowledge the bad that might have come if you did, I do sometimes find myself wondering the kind of mother I actually would have been. If I was more than just the negatives I see in myself. The kind of parents Ash and I would have been. If we’d have been able to shed the stigma and the pain of our pasts and build a home that was suitable for children. Raised up a few wonderful human beings who understand that love is a powerful thing, that it’s okay to love more than one person at a time. That it’s possible to love more than one person and still be faithful to them. That it is always okay to ask for help, even if I know, being our children, you would be so very stubborn. You’d be stubborn and caring, the kinds of people who want to put everyone before yourself, even when you don’t have to.
If I’d ever had you, you’d have wanted for nothing. Raised in a home where love, care, and material goods were given freely, without condition. Where passions were fueled and never shunned. Talents nurtured. Hobbies, plentiful. The kind of place where freedom of expression was always welcome, and forever encouraged.
I’d hope home would have been a place of kindness. No judgment. No raised voices. A place where you could come back to, no matter how old, no matter how much you’d been through. The kind of home and childhood you never had to heal from. That you never knew the kind of pain and suffering I did.
Perhaps that uncertainty is truly why I never did. The fear of becoming my father, too strong. The reality that I don’t think I ever could have put in the right amount of time to raise children the right way. Whatever the right way actually is. So, no, I am not sorry I never had you. I do not regret making the choices I have. But I do still think of what might have been.
