I would rather die, than do to my daughter what my mother did to me....

This story is both a confession/homage to myself and the love of my life; my daughter, as well as an open letter about the event that changed my life like no other event in my existence. And yes, clearly, I am referring to the birth of my baby girl, my baby girl; my terroir. Perhaps, as parents, we are not often aware of how drastically everything changes for us. We take for granted that sacrifice is involved but it is so much richer than just one thing. Now, I can refer to myself, as the luckiest woman who has ever lived, and without her (my daughter) I would never have reached this state of happiness and fulfillment.....

I became a mother at the newly turned 22 years old. In November 2014, I already knew (without having confirmed it) that I was pregnant.... I won't lie to you, the first thing I felt was absolute terror. If you have read my previous posts, you will know that my parenting relationship with basic concepts such as sex, pleasure or the naturalness of healthy exploration of sexuality, were the worst taboos in my home. Not to mention my relationship with my mother; a total disaster, historical and personally one that totally marked my life and certain perceptions of certain things that to this day I struggle to this day to modify.

I was not terrified about how to tell my parents, or that I would have to suspend my studies at that time; or that my life, freedom of movement or decision would be completely subordinated to another little person.... I never felt anything like that. My panic was born and gained strength in not being similar to what I detested the most: a human being who made another human being feel horror. That idea haunted me for hours, days and even months. I had no fear of getting fat, of not being loving enough, or of raising my daughter well or poorly; the worst thing that crossed my mind was the possibility that she would be unhappy.

It seems strange that this is my worst fear. But I won't lie to you, it was.... I didn't want her to not be able to look me in the face and tell me whatever happened in her life, in its different stages; the good, the bad: everything.... I had never really thought about whether or not I would ever be a mother.... This took me by complete surprise. And not being a pro-abortion woman (but not a pro-life fundamentalist either) I decided to have her. The father, he was a crappy human being. The only good thing I had with a guy like that was my daughter.... In short, what do I really want to tell you? Simply that loving to the extent that a mother can is life-changing.

We grow up hearing that a mother's love is ultimately the purest state and the ulterior of the verb to love; and even though it may sound repetitive and trite, I believe it is. When I was 22 years old, I thought my whole life would end the moment she was born. Today, more than 8 years after that beautiful event, I think I am only happier and happier. I love her. Her smile, how she dances (because yes, she is a dancer, my baby); her sweetness, the love she developed for animals, her way of being a curious girl but at the same time, her well being and happiness as a little human being, moves me to the point of tears.

Not long ago, I decided to take her out for ice cream. And I can swear to you, that seeing her enjoying herself there, happy, calm, remarkably ecstatic, filled me with a peace that is impossible for me to describe. It was at exactly that moment that I knew; I have to write about her. I will not give details, because I also protect my daughter, but I just want you to know, from the hand and mind of a young woman like myself, how deep and meaningful love for your children can be.... Also, how deep the wounds of childhood can run in all of us: look at me, I grew up fearing my mother like a monster, and would rather die than do the same to my daughter.