Dreams

 Dreams

There was once a time

that my dreams involved

pantsuits and heavy titles.

But now they seem to revolve around a

little girl who

squeals at telephone calls,

smiles at stuffed animals,

and who’s potential is not yet scarred by insecurity.

…

I once was a little girl

who dreamt of dancing gracefully as a ballerina,

of writing novels and books that would excite young readers,

and of caring for babies of her own.

The world is the only thing that dampens dreams.

The fear of not being able to adequately provide.

The intense competition and disappointment of failure

pushes that little girl away from those dreams.

Those dreams slip farther and farther away until

she soon begins to believe that she herself is a failure.

…

This is not the world that I want my little girl to grow up in.

I want her to see the sunshine,

to experience the rainbows that come after a rainstorm;

to see the beauty in the morning dew;

to dream of new possibilities and endless opportunities;

to realize that she can make it;

to realize she’s worth it;

to realize that nothing has to stop her from trying – except herself.

I want her to grow up knowing that the abilities she has

are not less than those around her.

I want her to grow up knowing that the way she looks

should not have to define her success.

I want her to grow up knowing that women’s rights are just

as important as men’s are.

I want her to grow up knowing that she can fight for change and

expect it to happen. 
…

I want her to grow up knowing that respect and decency are not a signal of weakness,

but a sign of kindness.

I want her to grow up to be a dreamer.

I want her to grow up to expect failure but to rise from it.

I want her to grow up stronger than I was.

I want her to grow up to be better than I am.

I want her to grow up to be a dreamer.

Because when we dream,

we change the world.

My dreams are not separate from hers.

Her dreams are mine.