Dear Xavy

a letter to my unborn son.

Dear Xavy (Zah-vee, short for Xavier),

First, I’d like to apologize.
I’ve tried twice now to start our family line, but both times have ended in surprise heartbreak and regret.
You are already supposed to be here.
I am already supposed to be teaching you stupid lessons like making your bed and keeping your room clean.
More importantly, I’m already missing out on teaching you about love.
About how the only first language worth fluently knowing starts with a hug.
You were going to take your first steps in red and black checkered Chucks, and I was going to hold your hand for balance, teaching you that it’s okay for a man to rely on women to keep them standing.
For every single step you’d take, I’d take pride in knowing that I did something great.
On purpose.
You’d grow up knowing that queer families aren’t just equal, but better, because you’d never feel like an accident.
You will always feel on purpose.
And for this you’d grow up thinking that everybody deserves this kind of love and attention, so you’d do your best in spreading your heart thin across all of the accidents in this world.
Making them feel on purpose.
Remember to sleep, sweet boy, one person can only do so much.
You will always feel like it’s never enough, I know this because you’re my son.
But giving in to yourself does not mean giving up, it just means that the love you share more sparingly will allow you to feel some of what you’re giving out.
You will be proud of everything that you are, especially your genetically keen fashion sense.
You will be the type of man to stop and ask for directions.
You will hold hands with anyone who needs it, no matter who sees it.
You will only raise fists in efforts of unity at human rights rallies.
You will proudly give everything you have to the people without.
Compassion is in your genes.
You will know what it means to forgive, that it’s better to make amends than to keep speaking war behind people’s backs.
If you lead, they will listen, remember this lesson.
And also remember that all persons are most alive in their acts of kindness, so create moments for them where they’re allowed to shine freely.
Lastly, even in all your efforts and all your love, not everybody will like you.
This doesn’t matter, pay more attention to the actions that will make you love yourself.
This, dear one, will allow you to keep spreading the love.
On purpose.

And I hope that I meet you one day, so you can prove me right.
So I can prove me right.
But know this now, I love you already anyway.

 

Love,

Me

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