Dear younger me,
All of those things you wish you knew back then, you'll know now, but never in the way you thought.
Things are going to be hard for you as you get older. As you get older, it gets harder to admit when you're hurting. It gets harder to tell the truth to yourself. It's harder to tell the truth to God.
You're a very empathetic, spiritual person, younger me, and it's sad to say that the world made you harden some. But, that's something I'm working on right now. I'm sorry I didn't know how to take care of you when I was young. Meaning, you didn't know how to take care of yourself.
And that's okay. That's okay that you didn't know, that I didn't know. Because I'm learning now. I'm looking to be the best version of myself. I'm learning to ask for help and to be better.
There's gonna be a few times where you scare people, younger me. You're going to worry them, and everyone is going to walk on eggshells because no one knows what to say. But, you'll find that sometimes, that's okay. Because you don't know what to say either. In fact, I still don't. I still fumble over my words when people ask after me. Because after all of this time, almost a year later, I'm still processing everything. That's not the only thing I'm processing either.
I hate to be the one to say this, younger me, but you're a very insecure person. You're a people-pleaser who doesn't much care for her appearance. You learn to stand up for yourself when no one else will. You learn to stand. You stress eat because of your anxiety, and darling, I wish that was a habit we never developed. I'm working on managing it ow, working on losing weight too, but it's hard. It's very hard.
I've been thinking a lot about my childhood lately and realized our perspective is skewed. Health issues make it weird for us. It's hard to remember the good things, so we'd rather not remember at all. And, that's fair. I get it. That's not to say we didn't have a good childhood, just that everything seems a little weird and fuzzy with the way we remember it.
I've spent a lot of time on reflection lately, and it's... It's good. It's helping. It's not as hard to get out of bed, because I tell myself that I will come back to those feelings later. I think about how frustrated I get because sometimes I want to cry, I need to cry, and just can't. That must seem weird to you. Sometimes I feel like all you did was cry. And that's okay. You needed to.
Things don't get easier, younger me. But, don't feel scared. You learn to cope with the hard stuff. And actually cope and process. Not just ignore the problems sitting in front of you.
You learn to sing when it hurts, and how to pray at your worst. I'm still a spiritual person, younger me, but it's hard right now. I'm a little lost and a little scared.
But, it's okay. I've made it this far, right?
I'm learning how to be honest with myself, and how to achieve what I want. I'm learning how to rest and take care of myself. I'm learning what it's like to not be able to articulate my feelings. Since last December, my words have just escaped me. That's actually been the hardest, I think. I wish I'd been able to prepare myself for that. My writing dynamic has changed too. Not much, but just enough for me to notice.
You used to be so unafraid to share your writing with people, but then your writing becomes such an integral part of you that you can't see yourself without it. It's so important to you. Cherish it. Take care of it. Use it. It's your soul expressed in it's truest form. So, again, dear, take care of it.
Life is hard, younger me.
But it's better when you learn you aren't alone.
It's better when you learn you can depend on yourself.
It's better when you learn to love yourself. And, albeit, I'm not there yet, but I'm trying.
And younger me, I still feel the influence you have in my life. The way you go stupid over boys who are just your type (just ask Momma., she knows how the guy who works at Target who is so your type, and how you're too nervous to even speak to him), or how you will always want to be a Mom that is at least half amazing as your mom (even if you adopt and decide you don't want biological children), or how you keep me social, even though I've discovered I'm quite the introvert.
You weren't perfect, younger me, but you did your best. There's a lot of sleepless nights and hard days, but you'll be okay.
One day, you'll learn everything is so complicated, but that it's also so simple.
One day, you'll be the person you wanted most to be.
One day, you'll forgive yourself for not being everything you needed.
I'm still not there yet, but we can get there together, okay?
P.S. It's okay to be happy.