Ms. Elizabeth Renee Fraser

Dearest Elizabeth, 

I am writing to you just after your 5th birthday. Happy birthday! You have just moved into your new home on Carlotta Road with Mum and James. You hadn’t properly ~moved in~ yet, so we used your unhinged bedroom door as a makeshift table for all your loving immediate family to gather around and sing you the happiest of happy birthday songs. Your birthday cake was strawberry flavour, your favourite. 

You got your first polaroid camera this birthday. I remember you using the entire roll of film within a week; so excited to be able to capture every leaf, or door handle, or ray of sunshine on the cobblestone steps, forever and ever. 

You also got your first baby pink stereo player this year, and you listened to all of your So Fresh CD’s on repeat; especially the love songs. You imagined, even then, what it would be like to fall in love, and to have someone romantically love you back, like in those songs. And that extraordinary, formidable feeling that grew inside you that summer? That consumed your every thought? It never went away.

A few weeks later, Santa got you a brand-new lunchbox for big school; it was pink and purple, and it had a separate compartment for the water bottle that came with it. You were so excited you broke your front bottom baby tooth trying to open it on Christmas Morning, and we had to find an Emergency Dentist who would remove it for you. Typical. Lucky, we did, huh? You were so brave. And you rocked that tooth gap.

Do you know who I am yet? You’ve always been a very clever girl. It’s you, or rather us. We’re 24 years old now, and guess what – we live in Melbourne, Victoria; a whole 1000 km away from where you’re living right now. 

We rent a beautiful 2-bedroom apartment all on our own; well not entirely! We have Ghost, our beautiful, goofy, loyal and loving Border Collie. He is 6-and-a-half years old; which makes him even older than you are now! I am sad, but also grateful, to tell you that Ghost has been the only consistent part of your life during those years, aside from me. 

I am writing today to apologise to you, Elizabeth; for all the things I will do to you in your future, and for me, all the terrible things that I have already done, and cannot go back and change. Though I would give anything to. 

I am sorry I have told you to be quiet when you have felt sad and alone. 

I am sorry I have used substances to drown out your voice when you have been afraid. 

I’m sorry I have let men touch you in ways you detested, and did not tell them to stop. 

I’m sorry I have called you ugly, and starved you for days, and weeks, and months, and years. I wish I told you every single day, from the moment you receive this to the moment I am writing it today, that you are so beautiful. And I am so, very sorry that I could not.

I’m sorry I’ve cut your skin when you were angry and confused.

I’m sorry I’ve pulled your hair out when you were stuck.

I am sorry I have tried to kill you in as many ways as I know how to. I’m just so glad you were strong enough not to let me.

I am sorry I have looked for the love you asked so gently for, and that you so desperately needed, in so many other people. People who could never give it to you, instead of giving it to you myself. 

I’m not perfect, and I never will be. But today I will make a promise to you; a pinky-promise even. 

From this day on I will remember to listen to you when you feel sad, or afraid, or abandoned and lonely, unloved, unworthy, and ugly. I promise to nurture our body with food, to shower us regularly, to ensure we have clean clothes, and a warm bed to sleep in at night – together with Ghost, obviously.  

I promise to take you on long walks, rain or shine, so that you can see all the breath-taking beauty that you so desperately tried to capture forever on that very first polaroid camera. 

I will take you to sunny beaches and let you feel the cool saltwater on your skin. 

I will blare all your favourite songs in the car, day or night, windows up or windows down, for as long as you would like us to drive. 

I promise to keep you safe, from others and from me. 

I promise to do everything in my power to keep us growing in the most comfortable way we can.

And most importantly, I promise to make sure you know every single day that I love you completely, unconditionally, and eternally. 

I will write again soon, whenever I feel you trying to reach out to me again. Please don’t be afraid to, I promise I will never ignore your needs ever again.  

All my love, 

Elizabeth Fraser