26 years ago today - Part One.

It has become a 'thing' that I write a blog post in honour of my daughter on her birthday. Now that it has become a 'thing' I have horrible writer's block.

Partly because many things I would write are personal and intimate and not something I want to put in this blog, partly because I have performance anxiety.

I make it a point not to go back and read previous birthday posts because when I do that I think to myself that that Mary-Anne of Breathing Life was a much better writer than I am.

I wrote a poem, that I will publish, but it is not turning out quite the way I wanted.

This girl of mine. This girl deserves a poem of great magnitude, because she is something very very special. She is actually a woman at twenty six, but I hope I can be forgiven for thinking of her as my girl still.

If you met her you would see a young woman of amazing style, tattoos, piercings, half her head shaved, the other side long dark hair, eye-liner, bright lipstick.

When you see her, she will take your breath away because she is so beautiful.



But it is what you don't see that amazes me.

She fights for the disenfranchised. She works for a sexual assault centre and does all she can to make the streets, the university campuses, high school hallways and the world a safer place for women, for queer people, for transgendered men and women.

She does not suffer fools gladly.

She is fierce.

Her anger can be huge, and so is her love.

Her spoken word poetry will leave you speechless, and often in tears.

Her songs are poignant, wise, and powerful.

Her singing voice, and her guitar playing are amazing.

Yet, she struggles.

She struggles to make a living in a career where, as she said once, 'she is destined to work for non-profit societies'.

She struggles to truly find her community. A femme queer woman who loves her high heels, and short skirts and sexy tops.

She has her politics and her points of view, but sometimes she just wants to laugh and be silly and not take on all the woes of the world.

She is a feminist in the truest sense.

She is my daughter, and I am so honoured to be her mother.

She is one of many of her generation fighting the good fight, having ideals that get crushed on a daily basis, and coming face to face everyday with the baser side of life.

Still she gets up, puts on her face and heads out into the world. Everyday.

I have learned and continue to learn so much from her.

Our conversations makes me think. Hard.

I want her to know, today, on her birthday, and every day.

I have your back.

Keep going.

I have your back.