I was driving home from my daughter’s high school this Monday morning, dropping her off for the gazillionth time, approaching the freeway that I drive on almost every day. This route, so familiar that I truly do not recall approaching the onramp. Did I sit at the light, anticipating the changing traffic direction, or did fate allow me the smooth transition of turning left onto the freeway without hesitation? I genuinely do not recall. I randomly change stations on the car radio, discouraged by songs that I have heard more than a countable amount of times on the station that my kids plead with me to hear in the car. A radio station that plays so many songs about sex that I feel I should write a thank you note to the programmer due to the fact that I no longer need to explain about the “birds and the bees” to my children. I press another button. An owner of a Car dealership promising new or used vehicles to those whose financial standing is less than favorable. More noise. I try another fateful button. A woman reading her thoughts regarding Barbie being her hero. Bingo! She sounded apologetic albeit astute. She was surmising her belief. Concluding that her belief in Barbie eventually segued into believing in her self.
What did I believe in? I could think of nothing that had passion behind it. Did I believe in God? Well, sort of. I believe in a higher power, but not in the God that so many speak of. That doesn’t count. I believe in my family. Well, of course I believe in “family”, I’m a member of an insane legacy of woman that can do anything, and do. Most people not from a Joan Crawford-esque mother believe in their family. Doesn’t truly count. What do I whole heartedly BELIEVE in? I felt lost; vacant. Did I not invest my soul in anything substantial or spiritual? Even somewhat committed? It appeared to me that some soul searching was in order. Did I have a soul to search? Signs were bleak. Then it hit me. If in all of my years of life, if I could not whole heartedly believe in myself, the two things that I can believe in without doubt are my two daughters. They are 10 and 15 and better women than I ever professed to be, especially at that age. Both of them are funny and beautiful, smart , clever and loyal. More than I could ask for in a friend and enough to make any mother beam with pride. They are the types of people that others enjoy being around. If my girls continue to move the direction that they are now, I am certain that these two marvelous individuals will achieve more than I have, see more of the world than I have seen and that they will believe in themselves. Eureka! A benevolent gift of self-belief is truly what I believe in. My next generation is well equipped.
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