Today something happened that made me really think about your life. It wasn’t anything to do with you, or us, this thing; it happened thousands of miles away, on a different country and, by the time you read this, in a different time.
America’s 45th President was sworn in. It seems irrelevant, to our life here in Scotland. And I hope it will be. But the man that now sits as head of the world’s biggest democracy hasn’t so far inspired any good in the world, and I can’t help feeling that, while there might be some good that comes as a response to him and what he stands for, things are going to get worse before they get better.
We had the radio on in the car, you and I; we’d just been to the supermarket and to see your Granny. An ordinary day. Listening to the inauguration ceremony in the car on that mild, perfectly unremarkable January evening made me think about the future. What kind of world you’re going to grow up in; what kind of man you’re going to be.
I have so many hopes and dreams for you. Some of them are probably selfish, some perhaps are unrealistic: I know you’ll have challenges and moments of despair. I know you’ll question yourself, maybe go down a few roads that don’t have happy endings.
I could tell you not to worry about what others think of you, but I know you probably will at some point. Most of us do. I could tell you not to waste your time trying to fit, but I know that belonging and being the same as your friends will, somewhere along the line, be important.
You will meet people that are mean; people that are jealous, or have had bad times themselves and only know how to continue that cycle of misery. You’ll meet people who think that the only way to get ahead is to belittle others, who are narrow minded, not open to change.
My biggest dreams for you are that you follow your own dreams with an open heart and mind. To know that we are stronger for our differences, that we should speak up for those who can’t; that being informed and above all, kind, is what is important in life.
All I really hope and want for you, little man, is that you will never be afraid to forge your own path, and that whatever path you choose, you’ll do your best to help others along the way.
All my love,
This letter was written by Louise Thomason for her son Soren. You can read more of Louise’s work on her lifestyle and parenting blog Girl in the North Sea or follow her stunning pictures of life living in Shetland with her family on Instagram.