Right from the start, jealousy will strike the father’s gut. How can we feel the bodily connection you have with our daughters?

I hope one day my little girl’s eyes look into the mirror and see me instead of her mom. I hope one day that people tell my daughter she is just like her dad, the way she sits, walks, stands, runs.

I’d Rather be the Mother: No, not the morning nausea, no, not the stretch marks, no not the pain. I’d rather be the mother. Yes, the interconnectivity, yes, the loving soul, yes, the lenient one. Yes, the favorite.

How can I teach my daughter to grow up? How can I educate her on her body when I lack the knowledge. I’d rather be the mother who tells her she is loved in any way shape or form. Yes I’d rather be the Mother. The soul at night that soothes the heaving, heavy, heaven sent sobs.

I want to show her how to exude her femininity the way I could. Yes, If I was the Mother. But I am the father, I can only teach how far to spit, how to fish and how to skip stones. I can only teach her how to be me when I was younger, I can only teach her to be one of the boys.

I cannot connect. Connection with the soul, mind and body. She is part of me, but I can’t be part of her.