My sweet girl,

You’re getting so big. I can’t believe you’re ten years old already. Double digits! It’s mindblowing. You’re so independent, it’s terrifying to think that in a few years you probably won’t want to spend time with me anymore. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll continue to be a sweet teenager and give your mama all the love and attention she wants.

I’m stalling. Even though I’m not going to give you this letter for a long time. Part of me wants to date it for your eighteenth birthday. If I were braver, I would. But I’m not brave. I don’t want anyone to know my secret. And I honestly thought that I’d be able to just get away with it, forget about it, never tell anyone and never have to face it.

But you’re growing up. You’re strong. Fast. Healthy. Everyone chalks it up to a good immune system, a natural athletic talent. But it’s more than that.

Dale and I… things weren’t always great between us. I love him, of course, and he loves me. And we both love you, very much. Don’t ever doubt that. I hope you never have any reason to doubt that.

We were high school sweethearts, as everyone loves to remind us. It was a lot of pressure, you know? Living in such a small town where everyone knows each other. We dated for so long it became almost habit, and then after high school it was just expected that we’d get married and continue on with our lives here. And we both wanted that. But I didn’t always think I did.

After the honeymoon bliss wore off, we fought a lot. No, I’m not being totally honest. We didn’t fight. I was difficult. I’d drink while he was at work and then scream at him when he came home. I was belligerent and mean. God, he was so patient with me. I don’t deserve this man. I don’t know how he stayed by me after all that.

I sound like such a horrible person. Oh Daphne, you know, I am a horrible person! That’s why I had to write all of this in a letter. I’ll save it somewhere safe and when I’m on my deathbed I’ll tell you where it is. Or I’ll leave it in my will or something, so that I don’t ever have to see the look on your face when you realize the kind of person I really am.

One of my bad nights, I was feeling particularly rebellious, and Dale was on midnights at the mines. I’d started drinking before he left, so he took the keys to the sedan so that I wouldn’t drive drunk. I remember being so angry with him at the time. He was just trying to keep me safe.

I hotwired the car. Note to self, teach Daphne how to hotwire a car. Despite the shitty reason I used it that night, it’s gotten me out of a lot of hairy situations in my life. My gift to you, from fucked-up mother to loving daughter. I’m going to soak up all the love now while I still can.

Anyway, I took it a few hours to the city, and near smashed it into a dumpster trying to get downtown. I left it in an alley and stumbled into the nearest bar. I don’t need to tell you, or at least I hope I don’t whenever you read this, how dangerous it was for a little country girl like me to wander into a dank bar in the city, alone. I was young and stupid. I mean, I wasn’t naive enough to think that it was safe, what I was doing. I was just being reckless for the sake of it. I felt trapped in my little box of a life and didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t really care at that point what would happen to me. I’d half expected to die in a car accident on those twisty roads in the dark. I was lucky as all hell not to encounter a moose or deer that night, let alone hanging out in a strange bar in the city.

I hope that, someday, when you decide what you want to do with your life, that you won’t feel pressured into something you don’t want. I hope that I remember this clearly so that when you’re unsure of what to do with your adult life I can give you options and keep an open mind about what you want to do. Because the level of instability I suffered from… I feel it could have been avoided if someone had just told me that I had control over something in my life, you know?

I hope you never know what that feels like. Sweet girl.

There I go. Stalling again.

My hands are shaking now, as I write this. My penmanship isn’t so good. You know they got rid of teaching penmanship in the school curriculum? I need to remember to teach it to you if they do. Wouldn’t that be the irony… we get to the end of my life and I gift you this letter with all of my secrets and you can’t even read it because you haven’t been taught how.

Stalling.

I walked into the bar that night, and it was a sea of leather. Bikers, I guess. Though there hadn’t been any bikes outside. It was too cold, maybe. But I walked in, in a tiny dress with my hair askew, wide-eyed and probably looking like I had OUTSIDER stamped on my forehead. They looked at me like I was something to eat.

But there was one man that was apart from the rest. When his eyes landed on me… it was like every other person in that bar conceded to him. It was as if this unspoken thing passed through the whole place that he’d claimed me for his own. And, god. I felt claimed from that moment on. He had these piercing blue eyes that made me feel like my feet had melted to the spot. Like I couldn’t turn and run even if I wanted to, like I was held there by magic.

I’m not proud of sleeping with him. I don’t even have any excuses. I could say that I was vulnerable, in a bad place in my life, but I made the choices that led up to the moment I met him. And then, after I met him, it was hook line and sinker, and everything else was a blur. I woke up late afternoon the next day in a hotel room, alone. The only thing left of him was his necklace tangled in the sheets, having come off at some point the night before, I guess. I didn’t even get his name.

I stayed in that hotel room for a few days. I don’t think I expected him to come back, or wanted him to, really. I just needed to think and prioritize what I wanted to do with myself. I finally hitched a ride home with one of the oil delivery drivers that heads out our way and went back to Dale with my tail between my legs. I expected him to have all of my shit out on the front lawn.

Instead he fell all over me, tears and all, telling me how sorry he was and how he was so glad I was okay. I realized that I needed to get my shit together and be a proper wife to him. That I hadn’t been rebelling against him, just the thought of not having what I wanted. And that what I wanted was to live my life with this man that I loved, and we could have the life that we wanted. It was a turning point for me.

I meant to tell him the truth. Of what I did. But he was so relieved that I was alive, that I was okay, he said he didn’t even care about the car. The police had found it after he’d reported me missing and it was at the shop being fixed, and he didn’t care, he was just so glad I’d come home. I couldn’t… I just couldn’t tell him what I’d done. I apologized, said that I’d gone on a bender and blacked out but I’d gotten my priorities straight and promised that we could just live our lives now.

When I found out I was pregnant, I tried to convince myself it was Dale’s baby. But the timeline didn’t add up. We’d slept together since that night, but not early enough for how far along I was. Thankfully, with his shifts, I was able to schedule my appointments for when he was working and I could pretend that I wasn’t as far along as I was. I told people you were a month premature. You weren’t. Thankfully you were a dainty baby, at only seven lbs, so people just assumed that you would have grown to be a hefty girl had you gone to term.

In reality, you were actually two days overdue from your real due date. And I was terrified that you wouldn’t look like either of us. I knew that I should tell him. I wanted to tell him. And deep down, thinking about it now, I bet he would have forgiven me, had I told him then. He would have still been okay being your dad. If I told him now… I think it’s too late now for him to forgive me. I’ve been lying all this time. And I don’t want his relationship with you to be tainted by the knowledge that you’re not his, that you’re a product of my infidelity. Which, aside from my cowardice, is another reason I don’t want you to know about this before you’re an adult… I don’t want you to look at Dale any differently.

He’s your dad. He’s been there for you, raised you. The unnamed guy I fucked a decade ago might be your father by blood, but he’s not your dad. I don’t know where he ended up, or how to find him. I don’t know if he remembered me past that night, or ever thought that maybe he’d gotten me pregnant by accident, or anything. He’s never shown up and I’ve never run into him. I assumed from the hotel room that he had been passing through and didn’t live near here.

Not like I ever tried to find him. I was terrified for the first few years that he’d somehow find me and come into our lives demanding that he be a part of your life. But he never did. And you came out looking so much like me that nobody ever questioned anything, not even Dale.

But now… now I’m questioning things, baby. That man, your biological father… there was something… off about him. I can’t put my finger on it, and at the time I was so fucked-up that I wasn’t paying attention to that stuff, but looking back… he was so strong, like otherworldly strong. And he had this presence about him, just this intense aura. This animalistic power inside of him, something that seemed crazy wild.

I didn’t think too hard about it for a long time, but now that you’re getting older… I see this power in you. I don’t know what it is. Strong immune system, physical strength, you’re just… you’re just MORE than other kids your age. You can handle more. And it’s starting to show. I’ve tried to cull your interest in sports so that it’s not as obvious. You really like flowers, like a ton, so I got you all these kits and books to learn about them. I’m hoping that will calm you down a bit so that you’re not breaking speed records or something and calling attention to yourself.

I’m a horrible person. If I’d been honest with Dale, with anyone… I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know. All I can hope for is that my sins don’t drag you down a difficult path. That whatever these genes are that you’ve gotten will mellow out so that you don’t end up getting into any trouble. I will try my best to shelter you… but not too much, because I don’t want you to end up making the same dangerous decisions I did.

Anyway. I don’t really know how to end this. I love you. I hope that by the time you read this, you still know that I love you, and that Dale loves you. I hope that you don’t think too badly of me, even though I deserve it. And I hope that you know that regardless of my decisions, I’ve never regretted having you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. To this world. You’re precious.

Love,

Mom