Dear 12 Year Old Me

I remember how excited you were about life, how you knew already that there was work to do to create a world in which women and girls would be respected. I remember how grateful you were that our mother believed in going against convention, and how she insisted that our family was a collective community, and that our five brothers would be doing housework too.

I remember your shock that our mother almost died when a new baby she was carrying died inside her, and that she almost died waiting for three male doctors to meet and agree to give her an abortion to remove the dead baby. I remember how shocked you were at the control of women, and how grateful you were that our mother had survived. I remember the power you felt in your pride to be a girl.

I remember how excited and curious you were about life, how you cherished the time with your girlfriends and girl cousins and how they were like sisters. I remember how when you were 12 years old you were discussing together what would be important to do with these lives we have, piecing together what would be important to do, and that you knew already that respect for women and girls was in need of work. I remember you being shocked to learn from girlfriends that men beat women, that we were considered inferior as women, considered to be less intelligent and in need of being kept in control. I remember how grateful you were that your parents were gentle and loving. 

I remember that you were excited and curious about life, wanting to discover your talents, that you loved to read and kept a journal, knowing you would be a writer. I remember how powerful it was to sit with girlfriends in a circle and speak honestly together about our lives, and how we were treated as girls. I remember how you loved to dance, and sing, and how you believed that you had a life of adventure ahead of you. I remember how you loved to swim and run and skate and garden. How you knew that physical exercise was important. I remember your joy as you grew strong. I remember how you hoped that soon, as some of your girlfriends were already experiencing, that you would soon menstruate too, and how you longed to become a woman, and do something good, something needed in this world. I remember that all along you knew you were born for this. 

I remember that you hoped that as an old woman looking back and saying hello, that you would still be holding onto that fire that your spirit kindled, trusting that change is possible, that there are so many kind people, that women's knowledge and understanding of what is what is needed for peace is important, that through your life journey you carry this knowledge. I remember that you trusted and believed that you can and do make a difference by believing in your dreams and daring to act on them.

I want you to know how I celebrate that you have a strong sense of yourself and your ideas and that everything you do and every way you learn to trust your reason for being alive has helped me know my own capabilities and how to find my strength to continue and to believe that there are many more who understand, care about and face the same problems. Finding others who believe we can create change has been possible because of the dreams you had at the age of twelve.