An Open Letter to My Unborn Daughter

An Open Letter to My Unborn Daughter

An Open Letter to My Unborn Daughter has been edited by Rushi Bhimani.

Dear daughter,

I hope this letter finds you in the best of spirits and hopefully, we are sitting together while I read this out to you. This is nothing special, but just something that your then-21-year-old-dad would have wanted you to know.

The world, they say, is a scary place. Most of the time, they are right. People will try and drag you down. They will be selfish. They will hurt you. You will cry because of mistakes that other people make. That is the reality. It sucks!

However there is a whole other aspect to this world that often goes unseen and unheard of. Widely unnoticed, that side of the world and people in general, is what makes our lives worth it. For each person that pulls you down, there is another one who will motivate you to do your best. For every selfish individual, there will be someone selfless making it all worth it. There will be someone to wipe your tears and to hug you tight. To fix you when you feel broken and helpless.

This life isn’t about being someone great or someone who makes it big. It is about finding those who are worth suffering for. It’s all about finding those people who you want to come home to after a long day.

This world will tell you that you have to dress a certain way. To talk in a certain manner. Expect you to behave in an “acceptable” way. To cook. Do household chores. To be the ideal wife to your husband.

You do not have to do any of these. Not unless you choose to.

You can dress the way you want to. It’s okay if you want to wear a dress or if you want to wear a suit. It does not matter if your hair isn’t long or if you get a sleeve of tattoos. I would be just as positive if you chose to do boxing or do ballet. I’ll clap the loudest – no matter what ranking you might get. You want to study beyond college? Please do. Want to be a career oriented woman? Go on. Just try and be the best version of yourself each day.

If you wish to be a house wife and make a family and not a million dollar empire, I’ll be there helping you handle your little munchkins.

Explore your interests. Explore the world. I’ll always there to guide you, but your path would never be mine to choose. Get your heart broken once or twice or thrice or a multiple times, and I will get that ice cream, that one shot of vodka, or simply let you cry on my shoulders.

They say there are supposed to be boundaries, we’ll prove them wrong. You can talk about your period and you can show me my place when I’m wrong. All those conformities, they aren’t meant for you.

You should talk your heart out but be respectful. You don’t have to cook. Or do chores. Even if you give me raw, crunchy spaghetti, I’ll smile happily and ask for multiple servings. You do not have to be an ideal wife to a man. You choose who you wish to be with- man or a woman. I’ll love you irrespectively and respect your choice.

There might be times when I am stressed with work, when I might be too consumed with myself and won’t hug you as you run towards me or chill with you and talk about politics. Remember, even then, my love for you would surmount everything else.

I am not very good at expressing my feelings, at least not right now, thus I’ll confess my undying and unconditional love and affection for you through my gestures. Which, I promise, would be plenty. Let’s be prepared, we will have some disagreements. Your old man cannot be on the same page with you always. But we should have an unsaid understanding, okay? That we would never let it get hostile, cold or bitter. We’ll yell if need be, but would not let animosity plague the sanctity of our relationship.

You will never be pressurized by me into getting married or to give me grand children. They will talk behind your back and say mean things. Pay no heed. People’s opinion is immaterial. It’s just noise. Listen to your heart. Sometimes it’s just best to just follow your heart and go for it. “Carpe diem” is a very real thing.

To finish off, I’d just like to give you the best piece of advice I have ever gotten:

You are a silent revolution. A star being born into the sky. Don’t let anyone else convince you otherwise.

I love you.


To read more by the author of An Open Letter to My Unborn Daughter, click here. 

Sanchit Verma

Live my life with one motto: if an opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.