a letter to my younger self
I had originally planned something different for today. Something I tried to write, but felt completely blocked. Thankfully I had a piece I could rework for this series to help it feel complete. Using another writing, I did with
and her writing workshop.I am not ready to share such a vulnerable piece of my life quite yet. I hope when I am, it will be worth the wait.
**
We've just turned thirty, but we're not scared.
It's hard to write this. I picture you in your old twin bed, stuffed animals all around you. Dreaming about how things will be when you get older. Hoping it'll be like the early 2000s RomComs you love to watch. Like Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story. The underdog who finally gets her happy ending. In some ways, it will feel like you are the leading character in your movie. Most of the time, it won't.
I wish I could tell you only positive stories, but life is inconsistent. For every happy moment, there is another that is sad. Many nights will be filled with tears and heartache—the internal dissonance of simultaneously being too little and too much.
The beautiful thing about growing older is the wisdom of how to come to terms with this. I can see now what I couldn't back then. At the time, anxiety and fear were your closest friends. Be gentle to yourself; it's hard to see beyond what you're surrounded by. To understand how powerful our minds are. They shape our entire realities. Our thoughts control our way of life. What we believe. What we feel. It all is created by the beliefs in our minds.
With time, you'll learn to move forward. Your perseverance through the pain is what brings you here today, writing this letter.
Thankfully, that daydreaming spirit doesn't fade. The creativity and imagination you used as a child are still with you. That is something to be proud of. The playfulness you keep despite the hardness of life.
I think of you fondly when I picture you with your ferocious spirit, playing with your Barbies and Polly Pockets. Some of the happiest times you had on the floor of your room with the world that you created with your toys.
All the journals you started with stories and dramatics, never finishing one before starting another. Sometimes I find them and smile. They're not good. Mostly terrible, in fact. But to know that it was something you loved to do makes me beyond happy.
The core of who you were is essential to who you are. It will determine your relationships. You'll start to understand that when you release the fear.
Now you're doing well. You have friends who care for you, and you're living on your own. You've accomplished a lot. It doesn't always feel like that, but you have.
I know the thought of having a boyfriend both thrills and excites you. Maybe one day you'll fall in love. It's a dream that has yet to be fulfilled. There's a lot of guilt and shame in that dream. Shame that it hasn't happened. But you'll realize it's more common than you think. A lot of other girls your age have stayed single throughout adulthood. The shame just comes because it's a place where fear still resides.
When it happens, I hope it's more than you've ever dreamed of. If it doesn't, you'll be okay too. You'll learn you're not defined by the attraction others have for you but by how you love yourself.
I wish you had learned to trust your instincts earlier. Yet, the feeling of contentment and satisfaction when you realize how wrong people were about you will become a spiritual awakening. It will lead you to the right friendships and save you from the wrong ones.
The path will be lonely. I wish you could see how bright you shine inside. Your capacity for love will be tested.
It gets better, but it's still hard.
We still believe our lives will end like those 2000s movies we loved. Even though it breaks my heart to tell you this, the genre slowly dies, and the feeling encapsulated in those films isn't replicated anymore. We still have that feeling in our heart. Continue to keep it close.
Lead with love. Forget fear. Trust yourself.