I always enjoyed the thought of having a daughter. The typical setting up tea parties and buying her endless baby dolls. Girlhood is cleaning her room so she always has a safe space to play. A space where I can lay with her and watch her explore the world that I’ve created for her.

My daughter watches me intently as I put my makeup on. Her bright blue eyes filled with awe. I remember watching my own mom put on her makeup. We both lean over the counters, closer to the mirror. She would bring me in front of that same mirror and do my hair.

Girlhood is doing my daughter’s hair for the first time, brushing her hair together and putting it up in a little fountain ponytail, the same way it was done to me.

She watches me with the same wandering eyes when I read out loud to her. The same books I read to her when she was nestled into the comfort of my stomach.

I see myself in her every day.

She has my cheekbones. She squints her eyes in the same way I do.

All the features that I used to hate, I find myself falling in love with because they’re on her face.

Having a daughter is showing me the ways I need to change to be the best version of myself for her.

I am the creator of someone’s girlhood.