My child isn’t my easel to paint on

Nor my diamond to polish

My child isn’t my trophy to share with the world

Nor my badge of honor

My child isn’t an idea, an expectation, or a fantasy

Nor my reflection or legacy

My child isn’t my puppet or a project

Nor my striving desire

My child is here to fumble, stumble, try, and cry

Learn and mess up

Fall and try again

Listen to the beat of a drum faint to our adult ears

And dance to a song that revels in freedom

My task is to step aside

Stay in infinite possibility

Heal my own wounds

Fill my own bucket

And let my child fly

-Dr.Shefali Tsabary