So much more than pretty




“I hope I’m pretty when I grow up,” you tell me, with wide fawn eyes and a nervous smile. You say it earnestly seeking out the future and not just fishing for compliments.

“Why is it important to you?” I ask, trying to steady my voice and keep it void of emotion.

“Because pretty matters,” you tell me confidently, with five and 3/4 years of experience.

Pretty does matter, my sweet girl. It matters very little to me, but I would be lying if I said it doesn’t matter anywhere. But in the very large scheme of things, in the giant puzzle of life, in the thousands of choices of things that matter, pretty is just one piece.


I hope you are kind enough to realize that pretty can change in a second.

I hope you are bold enough to stand up for those who are not deemed pretty.

I hope you are interesting enough to get attention for your quirks, and not your skirts.

I hope you are smart enough to learn that wisdom is more important than pretty could ever be.

I hope you are strong enough to fight for the pieces that matter so much more than pretty.


I have been writing about you here for 5 years. I have shared stories, descriptions, love letters and my most cherished memories that describe the Lulu that I love more than life itself.

I would never use a word as simplistic as pretty to describe what you are. 

You are the first person I think of when my stomach aches from laughing. You are the smooth-skinned treasure that would sacrifice herself for the life of a worm. You are the brightest star in the sky that everyone looks to first, because everything else seems dim in comparison.

You are so much more than pretty.

You will spend half your lifetime wanting to be something that you already are.

I will spend all your lifetime wanting you to be more.

In the end, we both will be right.


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