You were taught to color inside the lines,
To speak softly, cross your ankles,
To never need too much, want too boldly,
To stay clean in a world that dirties everything.

They praised you for being good,
But never asked if you were happy.
You tucked away your hunger,
Buried your ache in polite smiles
And crossed legs.

But, Babygirl, I’ve seen you —
Not the mask,
Not the act —
You.

I’ve seen the way your breath catches
When my voice dips low,
The way your eyes flicker with need
When I call you mine.
You want to kneel, don’t you?
Not out of weakness —
But because it’s the only time
You feel free.

I know the shame, the war inside —
The “good girl” whispers:
He’ll think less of you.
You’re not that kind of woman.
You’ll disappoint everyone.

But listen to me closely:

You are exactly the kind of woman
I crave —
Strong enough to feel deeply,
Soft enough to melt for me,
Smart enough to know what you need
Even when it terrifies you.

There is no shame in wanting
My hands on your hips,
My praise in your ear,
My rules wrapped around your restless mind
Like silk restraints.

Let me show you how devotion feels
When it's wrapped in Daddy’s arms —
Not punishment,
Not shame,
But care so fierce it undoes you
One whispered command at a time.

You don’t have to be perfect here.
You don’t have to impress me.
Just let go.
Fall into the safety you’ve never known,
And I promise,
You’ll never have to hide again.

Because my Babygirl doesn’t need to be “good.”
She only needs to be mine.