Dear Sophia,

Sophia is only two, but there are things I want her to know; I want to somehow instill values and beliefs into her at an early age. She is too young to understand everything I want to tell her; the best I can do is to keep saying them, keep writing her stories and keep living them.

10 things I want my daughter to know:

1. It is not your job to keep the people you love happy. Not me, not Daddy, not your brother, not your friends. I promise, it's not. The hard truth is that you can't, anyway.

2. Your physical fearlessness is a strength. Please continue using your body in the world: run, jump, climb, throw. I love watching you test your limits. There is both health and a sense of mastery in physical activity and challenges.

3. You should never be afraid to share your passions. Be a child as long as you can - don't grow up too quickly. there may come a time when others say you are too old to play with dolls - ignore them and play anyway. Don't worry if your friends make fun of you - any friend who teases you for what you love to do is not a true friend. This is hard to realise, but essential.

4. It is okay to disagree with me, and others. You are a soul, unique and beautiful. what you think and feel matters to me. You will have a point of view, and I want to hear it. So do those who love you. Don't pick fights for the sake of it, of course, but when you really feel I'm wrong, please say so. You have seen me apologies when I'm wrong, and you should do the same. Admitting you are wrong is not being weak, it is humbly accepting that sometimes you don't always see the world as clearly as you think you do. Your perspective is both valid and valuable. Don't shy away from expressing it.

5. You are so very beautiful. Your face now holds the baby you were and the young woman you will one day become. My big, blue eyes and long, elegant pianist fingers and your father's physique and artistic temperament combine into someone unique, someone purely you. I can see the clouds of society's beauty myth hovering, manifest in your own growing self-consciousness. I beg of you not to lose sight of your own beauty, so much of which comes from the fact that your spirit runs so close to the surface.

6. Reading is essential. It is the central leisure-time joy of my life, as you will get to know. I read to you and Daniel often and can see your growing fondness for books. As you grow to read on your own, you will enjoy the identification you feel with characters, that sense of slipping into another world, of getting lost there in the best possible way.Those never go away.

7. You are not me. We are very alike, but you are your own person, entirely, completely, fully. I know this, I promise, even when I lose sight of it. I know that separation from me is one of the fundamental tasks you will experience as your grow. I dread it like ice in my stomach, that space, that distance, that essential cleaving, but I want you to know I know how vital it is. I'm going to be here, no matter what, Sophia.

8. It is almost never about you. What I mean is that when people act in a way that hurts or makes you feel insecure, it is almost certainly about something happening inside of them, and not about you. I struggle with this one mightily, and I will try very, very hard never to tell you you are being "too sensitive" or to "get over it" when you feel hurt. Believe me, I know how feelings can slice your heart, even if your head knows otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, it will help to remember that almost always other people are struggling with their own demons, even if they bump into you by accident.

9. There is no single person who can be your everything. Be very careful about bestowing this power on any one person. Being human is about trying to fill a gnawing loneliness. That feeling, Woolf's "emptiness about the heart of life," is just part of the deal. Trying to fill that ache with other people (or with anything else, like food, alcohol, numbing behaviours of a zillion sorts you don't even know of yet) is a lost cause, and nobody will be up to the task. You will feel let down, and, worse, that loneliness will be there no matter what. I'm learning to embrace it, to accept it as part of who I am. I hope to help you do the same.

10. I am trying my best. At times, I may not seem not good enough and not the mother you deserve. I may become impatient and sometimes feel vacant. I am sorry. I love you and your brother more than I love anyone else in the entire world and I always wish I could be better for you. I probably won't always love your behaviour, and I'll be quick to tell you that. But every single day, I love you with every fibre of my being. No matter what.