When I found out during week 20 of my second pregnancy that I was having a girl, I was over the moon. I remember repeating over and over to myself, “I’m going to have a daughter.” And during the first four years of my daughter’s life, I often found myself repeating, still amazed, “I have a daughter.”
As I write this, she sits on the floor dipping a corndog in ketchup while dressed to the nines in her Little Mermaid garb–-including the red wig. I look at her and revel in awe. She realizes I’m staring and says, “I love you, King Triton.” My heart swells and I reply, “I love you more, Ariel.”
Like you all, I too have many dreams for my daughter. She’s just 4 but already I dream about the life-long possibilities in front of her. I dream of the day we celebrate her college graduation. I envision her in many roles as an educated adult. Renowned concert pianist. Accomplished brain surgeon. Prima ballerina assoluta. Brilliant teacher. CEO. Philanthropist. Successful entrepreneur. Loving mother. Leader of the free world.
When my daughter asks me what she will be when she grows up, I can confidently tell her the sky is the limit and there will be no glass ceilings to break.