I don't love you, daughter, and don't expect me to do that. I am only your conductor to come here on Earth. Don't come with high expectations. I will be your first roof, the womb to shelter you.


Don't expect miracles from me. I'm just an ordinary woman. Millions around the world have given birth before me and will give birth after me. You are not the only and unique daughter. There are millions of children around the world who are someone's daughters. Don't expect me to take on your responsibilities, clean up your mistakes, and always be by your side.


Giving me the name, mother, know that I am not perfect and right. And I never will be. I'm not a superhero, I'm not a sorceress or a magician. I am only a woman ready to donate my flesh for life. Don't expect, daughter, that I will always be strong and not lie to you. I will do it, child, believe me. I will lie to you when I am seriously ill, I will cry when I am in pain, sometimes you will even see me with eyes darkened by pain.


I'm not perfect, believe it as soon as possible. I will not always give you the best advice, because you will go through new, untrodden paths and feelings. Sometimes I will be blind and deaf to your pain, because you will also lie to me.


If you think I'm an amazing chef---Oh no, I'm not! There will be burnt cakes, salted curries. Do not have illusions that you have the most beautiful mother. You will see me on Saturday morning with tousled hair, overgrown eyebrows, puffy eyes, pimples, and after a while, with grey hair.


Don't think, daughter, that my shoulders are like Hercules'. Mine bend under the pressure of life's burdens. And I, daughter, can fall into the sticky mud of failure and suffering. I can, because my knees will always give a way to pains.


Do not think that in my heart everything is a paradise. There are also thorns, ugly words, bad deeds. I am a woman, a daughter, not God. I'll be an adult for you, but sometimes you'll see me hugging my old ragged teddy bear. No wonder the child in me will always live. Don't be surprised if you see me throwing myself on your father's back, and we're playing horse. My love for him is boundless and needs a sip of madness and youthful emotion.


I don't love you, daughter. And I promise I'll let you fall into the mud and stand on your own. I will not help you with the first steps, because you can do it yourself. I'm not as smart, daughter, as you want. The day will come and you will wonder why you admired me as a child. The sooner you see, the happier you will be.


Who am I? Your future mother. An ordinary woman with huge doses of dreams. I have many wounds in my soul, but I have also been wounded. I am fighting for my earthly and spiritual survival, I have walked steep cliffs, and in the meantime, the stones have wounded my skin. Life has taught me to fall to my knees and forgive, to be silent when a volcano of words erupts inside.


In short, honestly and frankly---I'm not perfect, daughter. That's why I don't love you. I just...I adore you. And everything I have learned I'll give you as a gift. I'm not perfect, daughter, I'm not. I don't love you, understand. Pure and simple, humanly naive and godlike, I adore you!