A Letter to My Daughter

My dear daughter,
I know what I did to you
and I know now that you know
the how and why. I passed on
to you my hair color, my eyes,
even my moles, but those are fine...
the problem was I passed on as well
my insecurities, my fears, my habits
and the ways I used to deal,
the hidden eating, the snacks
in the car then hiding the evidence...
but I guess a parent seldom knows
how much the child sees,
admiring and learning just because
it seems like honoring your parent,
doing what I did, not knowing
how I despised it. Dear,
I've watched you as an adult,
how you made yourself miserable,
copying me in the choice of men,
in how you dealt with them,
in trying to earn their love...
I know it didn't work for you

any more than it did for me.
But I've seen you, too,
work out your life with those meetings
and I love what it does for you
and I love that you're passing on
to my grandchildren better
than what I passed to you.