I want to take a moment to express my heartfelt apologies for being the toughest on you. As I catch sight of you at your desk, absorbed in your own world, I often don’t take the time to engage with you or even ask about the project you’re working on. I don’t fret over whether you need assistance or if you feel overlooked while your siblings play together without you.
My attention often shifts to your brother and sister, who are happily sharing laughter and secrets. In those moments, my heart sinks with concern for them. I find myself worrying deeply about your older sister, Claire, who seems to be drifting away as she navigates friendships and sports during her teenage years. I can’t help but feel a pang of envy seeing her bond with your father, and I question why I can’t have that same closeness with her. My fears multiply as I wonder if she’s holding in her emotions, struggling silently with life’s challenges.
Then there’s your younger brother, Jake, whose sensitivity and intense emotions often leave me anxious. I worry that my patience falls short when he needs it most. The weight of my own parenting choices haunts me, especially since he experienced the upheaval of our family dynamics so early on. I wish I could turn back time and offer him the unwavering love and attention he deserved during those formative years.
But you, my dear Emma, are different. You’re my middle child, and I see so much of myself in you. You articulate your feelings and needs openly, making it easier for me to understand where you stand. Because of this, I have taken your resilience for granted, assuming you would always be okay. I realized, only recently, that I sometimes treat you as a scapegoat for my frustrations, expecting you to handle things on your own without the same consideration I give to your siblings.
For instance, just yesterday, when you asked me to retrieve your soccer gear, I brushed you off with a curt response, expecting you to manage it alone—something I would never do to your siblings. This moment made me realize how I’ve overlooked your emotional needs while focusing so much on their struggles.
It pains me to know that I may have caused you to feel neglected or undervalued. I am truly sorry for not worrying about you as I should have. I’ve come to understand that my inclination to see you as the “easy” child has led me to neglect the fact that you also deserve my attention and concern.
As any parent knows, you’re only as happy as your saddest child. While I strive to love each of you equally, I realize I need to adapt my parenting approach to fit your unique needs. I want you to feel unconditionally loved, safe to share your fears and dreams with me, and to know that there’s nothing that can diminish my love for you.
I am far from perfect, and I often feel overwhelmed. I acknowledge that I might not always get it right, but I promise to do my best moving forward. My goal is for you to feel cherished every day, to foster a bond between you and your siblings that is grounded in compassion and support, and to ensure you never feel alone in your journey.
So tonight, as you lay your head down, remember that you are deeply loved. I cherish the unique qualities you bring to our family and am grateful for the relationship we share. My love for you is immeasurable and unwavering, and I will strive to demonstrate that to you more effectively.
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In summary, I promise to be more attuned to your needs and feelings from now on. You are just as important to me as your siblings, and I will work hard to ensure you feel that love and support every day.