You are beautiful and talented and smart and amazing and funny and kind and the world is better for having you in it.
You are right when you say I think those things because I am your mom. But it's not because I am blinded by my love or exaggerating your worth because you are mine.
My love means I see you with greater clarity, not less. I have studied you since before you took your first breath. I have watched you grow and change, and I remember you before you remember yourself. I care enough to examine you to a degree of detail unmatched by anyone. I know you, I see you, and I adore you.
I'm sorry the backlash against using the word "special" in our society has robbed you of the chance to rightly own it. I'm sorry there have been other parents who somehow labeled their children special while equating it with entitlement, and without tempering it with the idea of humility and respect for others. They have tainted the word and made it unfairly wrong to use earnestly.
But you are special. And worthy. And loved.
If I could have anything on this day, it would be for you to see yourself the way I see you. Then you would know how right you would be to love yourself too.