A letter to my second daughter leaving the nest

Dear Varanta

Today is the start of the next stage in your life. You are leaving home to travel alone as an adult for the first time. You are ready to explore the vast world despite the pandemic. It’s your time to travel, experience and learn. Where do I start from to let you know how proud I am to be called your mom? From the first moments you were born, in that friendly quiet hospital, sleeping by my side with enquiring eyes and holding my finger with a strong fist, I knew that the universe was offering me the precious gift to hold in my arms and nurture a unique and magnificent individual. 

Your activist soul started appearing very early in life around 5, when you were forcing me to read over and over again the little book of Children’s Rights every June 1st, then applying all that you have read in that tiny book on your teachers, and later on on your classmates, forcing them to respect your rights, respect each other. I can’t recall how many times your father and I were called to the principal’s office because you had given a lecture to a teacher on racism. Unfortunately, one time the teacher had asked you to pass on the beige color pencil, calling it “skin color”. Shocked, you explained to her in front of the class that it was racist to do so, that skin colors are different. Or that day, when you refused to leave the playground before the end of recreation, grasping the door while a teacher was trying to push you inside, you were shouting like crazy that “it is your fundamental right to have clean air once a day as a child”. Yes, you were always talking truth to power and that was not always appreciated in your school, we even had a teacher asking us to talk to you less about human rights. You were disturbing the “peace”…good for you!

Later, during your teen years, you spent your break times in between classes to raise awareness among your friends about domestic violence, equality, discrimination, challenging their stereotypes and denouncing any act of bullying you witnessed in class. The activist in you was not able to stop and many among your peers loved you for that and learned how to defend themselves. 

I remember how much I enjoyed traveling with you. You used to accompany me for conferences abroad, feminist gatherings. Sitting in one corner, listening carefully to each and every word, then asking me all kinds of questions, analyzing, trying to find solutions for social problems and injustices, very early in life. 

Yes, you were my little walking, smiling, talking activist. Wherever you went, family gatherings, among friends, at home with your siblings, always denouncing unjust and discriminatory words or acts, educating all of us about respecting people’s rights and dignity. So, everyone in the house, extended family and friends had to be careful what word to use around you, check if it was sexist or racist, in order to avoid a whole lecture on BLM, islamophobia and internalized misogyny. 

Life has not always been easy for you. At 16, you had to go through the pain of losing a dear friend and classmate to cancer, I remember the devastation and anger against the world and everything in it. I couldn’t do anything, just be there and listen, sharing your tears and the feeling of unfairness. You had to also fight all the discriminatory approaches and injustices you witnessed in the education system in this country, the inaptitude of some teachers, the sexist approaches, the prejudices. Although you loved the school and had amazing group of friends, you often came home angry, frustrated then determined went back to face the problematic ones, ask questions, point at the mistakes and hurtful acts, talk about it, denounce it. They loved you dearly, but they did not always appreciate what you were trying to change, but you did it. You changed many perceptions around you and helped so many, stood up for the most vulnerable among you. Even on the so-called prom day! 

Whenever life was bringing you hardships or challenges, you were growing stronger and more resilient, sure of yourself. On your graduation day, Covid19 happened and you were the only one affected in our home, but you fought hard and overcame that too. My hamovig, you have taught me so much in how to be a better parent, a better person, to be more patient, more resilient and I am so grateful for all the joy and craziness you brought in our home. Our house will be so silent for a certain time and finding your room empty is going to feel awkward and sad. But you are leaving us for a good cause; to start your new life, and gradually engage further in human rights and social justice studies. You are ready for this new journey that will take you first to Canada and then the rest of the world for you to explore. Although your father and I are going through a bittersweet feeling during this transition, we are happy for you and will be watching from afar each and every step you take. Remember, we will always be here, whenever you feel the need.

As you embark on your next big adventure, remember these words of wisdom: Trust your instincts, leave any situation or company that does not feel right, follow your passion, take risks if needed, love with all your heart, never stop learning, try new things, explore, never let anyone tell you or make you believe that you can’t achieve your dreams and of course take your vitamins, protect your skin, eat healthy food 

Life is a beautiful thing, sometimes it can be bumpy and despairing, take breaks but never give up. Whenever you need to come back, rethink, rest, I will always keep an empty spot beside me for you, no questions asked. 

As they say, go into the world and do well but most importantly do good.

Love always,

Mom