AN OPEN LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER ON HER 14TH BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday, Tori. You're fourteen years old now and can rightfully call yourself a teenager. This is your sophomore year as a teen. Thirteen was trial by fire and, seeing that you made it through, you can now walk the hallowed halls of teendom. Choose your path wisely. There will be many.

To say that we're proud of the young woman you're becoming is an understatement. You are wise beyond your years and are more empathetic than most grown-ups. Your view and understanding of the world around you is as complex as it is beautiful. Shannon was right when she first saw a picture of you and described you as an "old soul."

I sometimes worry as your father that in that wisdom, you're missing out on being a kid. I'm relieved then when you share about Ariana Grande, The Weeknd, and Formula 1 racing. Yes, in some parallel universe, I'm sure Carlos Sainz is as in love with you as you are with him.

You are an incredible sister. You've always looked out for Morgan in every way and aren't afraid to let me know when you think she's in over her head. She's lucky to have you in her corner. You've been her protector since you were old enough to hug her. You've also been great to your bonus-sisters Cam and Ev. We know it tries your patience, but you always make time to acknowledge them as well. Ev looks up to you with your shared interests, and Cam brings out a quirky side of you that only she can.

We've shared some hard tears and some great laughs. I'm grateful we can have these heart-to-heart conversations. I can only imagine how difficult it can be for a kid trying to find their way in this crazy world. It's something that I worry about daily. Just talking with you puts my heart and mind at ease, though it is short-lived. That will never change. You'll always be my little girl. I'll always think I know what's best for you, and you'll always prove to me time and again that you've got it under control.

I know you don't like it when I ramble on, but before I finish up, I want to remind you (yes, once again) of the day you were born. Your mother was in a separate room recovering from the procedure. I went with you to the room she would be in later. The nurse checked you over, made a few notes, then swaddled you up and handed you over to me. "Here ya go Dad... good luck."

You are the one that promoted me to "Dad." No one can ever take that from me. There was no doubt that you were of my bloodline. You had my scowl. The sixth-generation scowl that I can prove. We call it "resting dutch face," but most will say you just look grumpy. Sorry about that. Your little beady eyes examined every inch of my face. You were as perplexed about me as I was you.

"Hello, Beautiful. I'm your Dad. Your name is Tori. Tori Paige." For the next three hours, you and I just stared at each other, trying to take in what had become our world. Becoming a dad will change even the hardest of men. Becoming the father of a little girl will strip him of his defences entirely. In my arms, I held my greatest accomplishment to date. In my arms, I held my entire world, my universe. You were the sun, moon and stars at that moment.

In my arms was the safest place you were ever going to be. In my arms is the safest place you ever will be. You will move on with your big dreams and make a life of your own, of that I have no doubt. You will be successful. You will be beautiful. You will be an inspiration for so many, and the world will be a better place because of you in it.

But most importantly, you will always be my daughter, my little girl. If this world ever becomes too much for you, my arms will always be here to remind you of that.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. I Love You.

Love, Dad.

Mike - The Herdfather