Bubbles

I am not what you wanted me to be. I didn’t grow up with your values. I didn’t do the things you wanted me to do. I don’t lead the life you dreamt for me. I don’t fit in any picture you painted for me. I burst every thought bubble you had when you were soothing me, putting me to sleep, nursing my wounds, feeding me, watching me sleep. I burst all of them. Ruthlessly.
But I am you. All you.
As strong as you are.
Independent. Individualistic.
Just like you.
And as I grow older, I love you more and more.
Love you Mamma. Love you Papa.
Thank you for being you.