Letter to daughters of tomorrow

 Dear daughter(if I may)

          I ask your permission to call you my daughter because I haven't been granted one biologically. It is a privilege as well as a huge responsibility to call a girl your daughter. Am I ready to shoulder this responsibility? Though my letter starts with self-doubt, I yearn to talk to my daughter who is yet to see the tomorrow. Tomorrow, the word floats like a bubble on the wave of my thoughts. Sometimes, I feel I live in that bubble. Bubble of tomorrow. Today is that harsh wind trying to puncture my bubble. Yet, I preserve and guard a safe haven for you, my daughter, in this bubble. 

In my bubble, you have the liberty to be you. You, the unapologetic you. You can be who you want to be. Dark nights will not scare you. Empty streets will not pervade your sanity. When you stand tall demanding your rights, you will not be shoved into the earth. Your first cry will not be smothered and your last day will be with a long lasting smile. What kind of mother am I to imagine your final days? A realistic mother who prays as well as warns of the finality of life. Yes, I'm a realistic mother. I have seen man turn into a demon. Hence, I'm building a bubble for you. 

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