Dear Young Women


One day thirty years from now you will look at a picture of yourself when you were young and you will wish you had gone that place, tried out for that team or worn that bathing suit.

Know this right now.  You might never be more beautiful in your lives.  Your skin will never be so smooth; your hair will never be quite so glossy.  Your limbs will never be as strong or as long or as useful; your teeth will never be so white or your skin so clear or your eyes so bright, as they are right now.

The world is your oyster.

But not only are you beautiful, you are amazing and funny and smart and original.

Laugh at your own jokes and find good friends who look at you with love and see exactly what you are capable of.

Don’t look for acceptance from boys; they don’t know what they’re doing right now either, I know, I’ve raised two of them.

Don’t worry if they accept you; don’t worry if they appreciate you.

Appreciate and accept yourself.

By the way, it’s okay to be tough and pretty or sweet and strong.

In fact it’s best if you are all of the above.

Stop being so hard on yourself.

Stop walking around covering your stomach or stooping your shoulders or putting a hand over your grin.

Stop hiding behind your hair or scrutinizing yourself in the mirror.

Stop not speaking up in class or not kicking the boy’s butts in P.E.

Start being you because you are the only you there will ever be and that’s what makes you interesting; it’s what makes you special; it’s what makes you beautiful.

You can be anything.  Every opportunity is yours.  It’s 2015 and others who have gone before you have made it possible to be firewomen, presidents, astronauts, scientists, soldiers and a slew of other things.

You are not at this time too old, too tired, too poor, too encumbered by responsibility to do anything you might take a fancy too; it gets harder as you get older which is not to say it can’t be done but sometimes it requires a babysitter a bottle of Advil and some well deserved vacation time.

Sure you can do it all thirty years later because getting old isn’t bad unless you let it be, but why not start now because you don’t want to waste a minute.

See that girl in the photo above, that’s me about thirty years ago.

That girl looks happy, fearless, one of a kind, cute as a button and ready to conquer the world, if I do say so myself.

I just wish I’d said it more often to myself back then.


All the girls who have gone before you, including myself.




Some days I write, some days I wait tables and some days I work with preschoolers; all of which I love; but ALL days I am the wife of a Richmond City Firefighter and the mother of two great boys named Beau and Donovan who couldn't be any more different if they tried. In my five seconds of free time I run, ride bikes and try not to watch trashy t.v. I can be reached at