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Tuesday, June 12, 2018

A love letter




To my little fleet of feminists,

You’re my sample of what maternal love could be (I've been looking), because I feel that you’re all a tiny bit mine, and that’s quite fabulous. To be clear, I'm a excellent use of alternative advice, call me your Plan B when it comes to how to live your life. A second opinion, perhaps.

Be sure to live hard, because you are meant to do so much more than pay bills and die. And try not to worry too much because
worrying won't change much. Volunteer, and karma will take care of the rest. Take calculated risks and make educated decisions, and sometimes you will want to make choices based on your heart rather than your head, and do that. Find a nice boy or girl who still likes to read and will contradict you - you're from a long line of strong, vocal women - you will need that. You're life list shouldn't include finding a nice boy or girl, choose big goals and a nice boy/girl will find you.

Learn how to fight with your fists. If you’re anything like your mum or your aunts, you’re going to be a blue-eyed and petit, which means a cute target. Learn how you can fight with your fists so you can confidently travel solo. Learn how to fight with your words. Being clever and knowing how to use your voice is important. Learn how to fight with your words so you can confidently travel solo. And I promise to take you on your first international adventure, if you're not ready to travel solo. We will volunteer abroad and it'll change your life. Learn how to dance, I was recently told that's an important life skill to have because you're going to have dance at public events, and so you should do it well (this is something I certainly need to work on).

You are allowed to change your mind at any point in your life. Do Not Forget This. Truly, nothing can’t be undone, and you will be so much happier when you voice your change of heart regarding this one and only life of yours.

I hope your dads genes overpowered the McNeil ones’ otherwise you’ll cry allot, and I’m really sorry about that. You’ll cry when you’re happy, hurt and frustrated. And then you’ll be angry because you’re crying, and not for the actual reason (very rational, I kmow). Sometimes these independent genes are a burden. But sometimes you just need to cry and move on.

And just to reiterate, I get to take you to get your first piercing (and I’ll get one, too), I get to be your first phone call, when you can’t call my sisters, and I get to be the aunt who you direct those hard questions to. I get to sit you down we’ll eat odd health food, which you’ll politely eat, because your mum’s will have beat politeness into you (like Gram C did to us), and you can ask me those questions that only an aunt can react to unruffled and answer at ease. And I’ll tell theatrical and, at times, uncensored stories, full of imagination and incite, explaining why your mums' are the way they are. I'll explain the crazy they've inherited and help you embrace your own. And I’ll share my own life lessons and woes as well. And I promise that I’ll provide that much needed honesty.

And to the Littlest Feminist, the newest addition: The Birth that I've failed to make and loved from afar, but this isn't any different from your sister's or cousin's and I'm comfortable with this decision as I was with Natalie and Heidi, where I sobbed in internet cafe and on that side road, grieving the day I missed. With you, I cried over my instant coffee in my Hostel, on your birthday, the day you changed so many peoples worlds, as you entered into your own.

A really lucky Aunt

Kid, you're gunna move mountains

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