“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ~ Joseph Campbell

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Dearest Daughter,

I’m writing this anonymously out of respect for your privacy and mine, without knowing if you’ll ever read it. I pray you do find it, though, and there is something that I share in this letter that only you will recognize, that you will know this letter is specifically for you.

The great American writer, educator, and mythologist Joseph Campbell once wrote that myths are not lies; they are the truest stories we have, told in symbols, because some truths are too big for ordinary words. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, because what I want to tell you is one of those truths. I love you. I have never stopped loving you, and I never will.

Campbell said, “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” For me, this letter is that cave. The silence between us has been long, and writing into it is frightening, but the treasure on the other side is you, and so I feel I must write. I think about you every day. I think about our happy times, and the girl who liked to read bedtime stories together, aloud / bake cookies together / loved writing, crafts, and art together. That bond between us was and is real. In Campbell’s language, it is one of the eternal things that is not bound to time, not erasable by distance or years. I carry it with me and I always will.

I want to share something honest, too, because you always deserve honesty from me. I know that you remember what you witnessed that day, when you were eleven. You stood just feet away. No child should ever witness what you did, and I am so deeply sorry I couldn’t protect and shield you from that. Witnessing it victimized you, too. Your suffering from it mattered then, and it still does.

Campbell wrote that the hero’s journey often begins with a major wound, a defining moment that splits one’s world into two, a before and an after. You were given a terrible emotional and psychological wound that day. You did not choose it, and you did not deserve it. If some of the years since have felt like you’ve been wearing a mask and like you are wandering through a dark forest, I completely understand. The dark forest is 100% real. It is not your fault that you were sent into it, and so young. Loyalty can be demanded of a child in aggressive, selfish ways that instill fear. I say this because I want you to know your experience matters. Your experience was and is seen. I see the complexity of what you’ve had to carry and live with, and I don’t need you to resolve it before you return.

Here is what I want you to know: I’m always your mother. My love for you expects nothing and is safe. There is nothing you did that needs an apology. The door is open for you. It has always been open, and it will remain open. Campbell believed every hero’s journey ends with a return. I dream of your return. The return is the coming back, transformed, to the place and the people who have been patiently waiting. I’m patiently waiting for you, sweetie. When you’re ready, whether that is tomorrow, next year, or ten years from now. I will meet you where you are at and as whatever feels reasonably possible and doable for you.

I have so much faith in us. Real and sincere things don’t disappear; they wait quietly underneath everything else. Follow Your Bliss, Campbell said, and the universe will open doors where there were only walls. I believe one of those doors leads us back together, and I believe you will find your way in your own time. Until then, please know that you are loved very deeply, unconditionally, and without end. You are thought of every single day. You are in my heart and missed way more than any letter could hold.

With all my love and care,
Mom