They say you look like me,
but when I look at you I don’t see me – other than in the shape of your eyes
but even the color is usually green – a color that has never been in my eyes.
I look at you and I see so much beauty,
such strength, confidence, wisdom and knowledge
in you I see hope and curiosity and endless possibility,
things I don’t recall ever having myself.
I look at you and I see fearlessness,
stubbornness, a willingness to look at the world as half-full.
I see so many things I hope you hold onto,
so many attributes I hope I am able to help you nurture
numerous qualities that I hope burn stronger with time
and are not quenched or broken by others’ negativity.
I look at you and it raises the question of nature vs. nurture,
yes, my being your mother has likely influenced you in some way
but so much of you seems so innate –
it seems you could have been raised by the Amish or by wolves,
and you would still be amazing, silly, resilient, stubborn, optimistic Emma.