Today I had to let go of your hand.
I’ve done it a thousand times before, but this time it was different.
We’ve spent days and nights and weeks apart. We’re good at it. But this time it was different.
Because although you’ve been away from me before for nursery, for pre-school, for weekends with your dad and weeks with your nanny, it’s different.

Today marks the start of your new journey. A journey that will lead you all the way into adulthood. You’re so tiny right now it seems like insanity that you’re taking your first steps to the rest of your life.
You’re going to learn to read and write and add and subtract and function as your own person, without me.

I hope your teachers understand how special you are.
How sensitive and caring.
How sometimes you need an extra bit of support to do something you find scary.
I could have given her a handbook, of the things you love and the things you hate, the ways to make you laugh when you’re about to cry, the ways to make you feel safe when you’re scared. All the things only I know.
It’s just a job to her, but I’m trusting her with the most important thing in the world.

You were so excited this morning, you didn’t bat an eyelid at being left in a new place with new people, you walked straight over to a girl who looked scared and asked her to be your friend, and that made me so proud.
I don’t know when you learnt to be so brave, so kind, so clever, so funny and so wonderful. But you did.

Today marks the start of your new journey. But for me it marks the end of one.
Today I had to let go of your hand and let you run on your own.