My Role Model Hasn’t Been Born Yet

Marilyn Monroe. Grace Kelly. Audrey Hepburn. Meryl Streep.

These are a few of the women I admire, but I’ve never really had a role model. I’m at that age when I’ve started thinking about having kids, and what kind of mother I want to be.

I came to the realization that I want to be the kind of woman I want my daughter to become when she grows up.

So my role model hasn’t been born yet.

I want my daughter to be the kind of girl who’s full of life growing up.  I want her to be passionate and I want her to have passions.  Being my daughter, she’ll probably be a little a stubborn. She’ll want too many things at once, and sometimes, she’ll overwhelm herself.

She’ll understand that I have expectations of her but she’ll draw her own path regardless.

She’ll know that it’s OK for her to make mistakes, as long as she learns her lesson. Sometimes, the lesson won’t take the first time, and maybe, she’ll make similar mistakes. She won’t be embarrassed about them.

I want my daughter to be the kind of woman full of love in her heart, which means that she’ll be heartbroken.  She’ll pick the wrong friends, and of course, the wrong boys (maybe the wrong girls). She’ll embrace the pain but she won’t be jaded by it like I was. She’ll continue to give to others around her, but she’ll also be a little selfish when she needs to be.

She’ll take care of herself and her body. Sure, she’ll like junk food, and she’ll sometimes drink too much. At times, she’ll compare herself to others and get stuck in that destructive rut.

But she’ll have friends who love her who’ll talk her out of that rut. Through all the bullshit, she’ll surround herself with people who love her unconditionally and want the best for her, no matter the distance. Her mind will be just as accepting as her soul is.

She’ll be patient (sometimes). Maybe she’ll be frustrated with me, but growing up, she’ll understand that all I wanted in the world was her happiness. If she sees me making a mistake, she won’t bite her tongue. She’ll point it out and talk to me about it.

She won’t bottle things up. She’ll find an outlet, even if she can’t confront the situation right away.

She’ll love to laugh and she’ll have the most beautiful laugh. Maybe she’ll snort like her mama. She’ll have eclectic tastes and won’t fit into one box. She’ll be a little bit of nerd, a little bit of a smart-ass, and a little bit of a geek. She’ll love to read as much as I do (There’s no way I’m budging on that one.)

She’ll write. Or maybe she won’t. She might get my dad’s artistic skills (hopefully it skips a generation). Whatever it is she loves to do, she will follow her heart.

If she stumbles, she’ll pick up the pieces and move forward.

No matter what, she will always be true to herself. 

I want to be the kind of woman that my daughter will be proud to call her Mom.

So I guess I should keep working on that.

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