My Little Girl

This is my little girl, Lila Blue.

Now, I know what you’re thinking—she doesn’t look so little anymore.
Trust me, I know.

I also know you’re thinking, “Wow, she’s gorgeous.”
Trust me, I know.

Before I go any further: if you happen to be an adolescent male, I kindly invite you to keep scrolling. She’s not dating until she’s 30.

She turns thirteen this week, and we have a family tradition—when you hit the big 1-3, you get a destination trip with just Mom and Dad. No siblings, no distractions. Just time carved out to celebrate you.

So this week was full of sunshine, sandy toes, shopping bags, and plenty of ice cream.

It was a blast, but here’s the part that sneaks up on you as a Dad:

Somewhere between chasing her on the playground and watching her pick out lip gloss at Sephora, she turned into this young woman—one with opinions, style, wit, and a quiet strength that doesn’t ask for permission.

She’s becoming who she was always meant to be and I’ve got a front row seat. What a gift.

This trip wasn’t just about celebrating her age.

It was about recognizing the shift.

She’s crossing a bridge into something new.

And as much as I want to slow time down, I also don’t want to miss a second of who she’s becoming.

So here’s to Lila Blue—confident, curious, and kind.

You’ve got your Momma’s heart and your Dad’s stubbornness (also his jump shot ).

Keep walking with purpose, laughing loudly, loving deeply, and staying true to yourself—even when the world tells you to be something else.

Because you, exactly as you are, already carry something rare and bright.

And the world needs more of it.

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