She is not the spitting image of you; she is fiercely and beautifully her own person.
She was born exactly right, it was never your job to mould her. You were simply (and most extraordinarily) gifted this time with her; you were gifted a front row seat to the depths of her love and the story of her becoming.
Her joys, curiosities and frustrations know no bounds. She does not need you to show her the way (she has always been able to figure that out on her own) but rather needs you to walk beside her as a delighted, present, patient observer; there to catch her if she stumbles, there to hold up a mirror when she momentarily forgets or doubts her own power.
That fire inside of her; be it a fire of kindness, a fire of serenity, or a fire of will; do not douse it or try to contain it. Instead, fan her flames and build within her an inferno of striking confidence and radical acceptance in every aspect of who she is inside and out.
Then, cherish those quiet moments where her wild hair catches the wind and she looks to the horizon lost in thought; unaware of your spectacular and unparalleled vantage point in the beautiful unfolding narrative of her life.