If I could write a letter to me

If I could write a letter to me, I don’t know which “me” I’d send it to. I’ve been on this earth for 21 years, and there are plenty of stages in which I wish I could intervene. All things considered; I think I’d shoot for 3 significant points in my life.

 

My first letter would be to myself before my eighth birthday. I would tell myself that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to get a B on a test. It’s okay to miss a day of school. No one thing is going to make me who I am. I’d make sure I knew that it’s normal to miss school. When you’re sick, stay home. Get better. I’d want to stress the importance of grades, but also understand that the amount of stress I put on it is too much. Most importantly, I’d tell myself to spend a whole lot of quality time with Mam-Boo because she won’t around forever. In fact, she won’t be around much longer at all. Make the most of the time you have with her, I’d write to myself. Hug her neck every chance you get. There will come a day when all you want is a few more moments with her, and you have that chance now.

 

My next letter would be for myself in middle school. First of all, I’d want me to know that the extracurricular activities I’m doing are going to make long-lasting connections and will one day get me a job. I’d make sure that I knew to stick with it. Again, I’d remind myself that grades aren’t everything. I’d tell myself that I can miss a day of school, and that’s okay. Attendance – as long as it’s generally good – doesn’t matter. A B on my sixth grade report card didn’t mean that I didn’t get into a great college. In fact, it didn’t mean anything. I’d tell myself to talk to someone before I let my mental health struggle get as hard as it did. I let myself struggle and talk down to myself for years before I asked for help. I’d let myself know that I’m so loved, and, even if it doesn’t feel like it, my friends love me.

I would remind myself that, even though there are dark times, life gets so much brighter.

 

My final letter would be to my 16-year-old self. The third letter would be the sternest, but I could handle it. I was in a bad relationship, and maybe I would’ve listened to myself.

I’d tell myself that no boy is worth the pain that I was feeling. I was feeling so inadequate, and infidelity isn’t my fault. That relationship will end, and it’s for the best. I’ll have so many better experiences after it does.

I don’t know what letters I’ll be writing to myself in the future, but I’m trying now to soak in the time I have now with my loved ones because of the lessons I’ve learned. Hindsight may be 20/20, but at least I’ll know I lived every day with the best intentions.