Today is International Day of the Girl. In honor and support of the Raise Your Hand campaign, bloggers were asked to write a letter to their younger selves.
I chose me at ten years old. Not that I can remember anything specific about being in fourth grade, but ten is always a nice, round number. And as my daughter always says, after nine you are in double digits for a long time.
Dear Lindsey,
Stop.
Turn around.
Go back inside the house.
You're probably headed to be outside under a tree somewhere reading a book. Go into your bathroom, the one with the horrible red sinks and look in the mirror. Look past the freckles and your goofy, large front teeth. You'll soon learn that good makeup and braces can only fix so much about a person. You're right about clothes and boys, even at this age. Boys are gross and will continue to be. For much longer than you'll discover. Clothes are meaningless, unless they are your favorite pair of jeans, and until we are talking about shoes. Cinderella was on to something. One pair can equal a life change; whether they be stilettos or running shoes. Redefine what you believe to be beauty. It's inside you, not outside of you.
Now grab that book and go back outside under your favorite mulberry tree. The one Papa planted before he passed away. The one where he feels the closest to you. You will spend much of your life believing that people who live in the spotlight are the only ones that matter. Disregard ALL this nonsense. Introverts change the world that extroverts attempt to dominate. Being a people pleaser will get you no where. There is power in telling those around you that you need time to process, think, just be, and develop thoughts, before they demand an answer or a response from you. The earlier you hone this skill, the easier you can exhale.
Baby, know this: you are stronger than you know, loved more than you'll ever believe and able of doing things to change the world. Laugh more than you cry, give more than you take, good manners and a perfect lip gloss will cover a lot of sins. You already know how to work hard, but remember to allow times to slip away and just be. Religion is different than following Jesus. A Buddhist will show you how to pray, a Hindu will remind you that you serve a living God, a Muslim can change the way you view everything and a Catholic will be your best friend.
Remember that God gave you the stars to remind you how small you are, he gave you animals to know that you never want that much dominance and he gave you people to show how deep you can love. That Corvette you always wanted isn't as much fun when you're paying for it, but nothing is as freeing as wind in your face. Live on less than you earn, save and then buy; credit cards are tfrom he devil.
If we were having tea right now, I'd tell you that your first instinct is always the right one; that boy you think you'll love first will break your heart, but do it any way. It's the experience and not the result that brings about the best learning. Skip law school and do what you know turns you ignited each and every day and allow whatever that is to change every ten years or so. Never stop learning, praying or giving. God is in every thing that you chose to allow Him and only those humans who've earned the right to be in your life should be allowed to stay. Hug Nannie tighter each time you see her. Trust me. The open wound she leaves will burn, even though you're supposed to be fully grown. And make her write down every recipe she knows; the woman keeps horrible records.
I love you. I don't want you rewasting the years I spent learning how to say that to you.
You are loved. Just as you are.
Knobby kneed and completely silly.
Freckled and socially awkward.
Loud mouthed to those you love
and jittery around those you don't.
You got this.
Life is so much bigger and scary now than it will be in a few years.
And when they hand you the diagnosis saying you'll never have children...cry over it. Loud and long and hard. Mourn the period that infertility plagues your mind and heart. Just to say you gave it respect. And then move on. Yes, a wee one will never come from your body, but your home will be filled to the brim with laundry and crayons and laughter. And your boobs will stay a little perky a little longer than your friends (yes, you will get boobs. It will take at least until your 20).
May you experience every joy and every heartbreak to the fullest. It's the only way you'll ever know how to do anything, all in. It's the thing I love the most about you.
Hugs and Love,
Me.
I chose me at ten years old. Not that I can remember anything specific about being in fourth grade, but ten is always a nice, round number. And as my daughter always says, after nine you are in double digits for a long time.
Dear Lindsey,
Stop.
Turn around.
Go back inside the house.
You're probably headed to be outside under a tree somewhere reading a book. Go into your bathroom, the one with the horrible red sinks and look in the mirror. Look past the freckles and your goofy, large front teeth. You'll soon learn that good makeup and braces can only fix so much about a person. You're right about clothes and boys, even at this age. Boys are gross and will continue to be. For much longer than you'll discover. Clothes are meaningless, unless they are your favorite pair of jeans, and until we are talking about shoes. Cinderella was on to something. One pair can equal a life change; whether they be stilettos or running shoes. Redefine what you believe to be beauty. It's inside you, not outside of you.
Now grab that book and go back outside under your favorite mulberry tree. The one Papa planted before he passed away. The one where he feels the closest to you. You will spend much of your life believing that people who live in the spotlight are the only ones that matter. Disregard ALL this nonsense. Introverts change the world that extroverts attempt to dominate. Being a people pleaser will get you no where. There is power in telling those around you that you need time to process, think, just be, and develop thoughts, before they demand an answer or a response from you. The earlier you hone this skill, the easier you can exhale.
Baby, know this: you are stronger than you know, loved more than you'll ever believe and able of doing things to change the world. Laugh more than you cry, give more than you take, good manners and a perfect lip gloss will cover a lot of sins. You already know how to work hard, but remember to allow times to slip away and just be. Religion is different than following Jesus. A Buddhist will show you how to pray, a Hindu will remind you that you serve a living God, a Muslim can change the way you view everything and a Catholic will be your best friend.
Remember that God gave you the stars to remind you how small you are, he gave you animals to know that you never want that much dominance and he gave you people to show how deep you can love. That Corvette you always wanted isn't as much fun when you're paying for it, but nothing is as freeing as wind in your face. Live on less than you earn, save and then buy; credit cards are tfrom he devil.
If we were having tea right now, I'd tell you that your first instinct is always the right one; that boy you think you'll love first will break your heart, but do it any way. It's the experience and not the result that brings about the best learning. Skip law school and do what you know turns you ignited each and every day and allow whatever that is to change every ten years or so. Never stop learning, praying or giving. God is in every thing that you chose to allow Him and only those humans who've earned the right to be in your life should be allowed to stay. Hug Nannie tighter each time you see her. Trust me. The open wound she leaves will burn, even though you're supposed to be fully grown. And make her write down every recipe she knows; the woman keeps horrible records.
I love you. I don't want you rewasting the years I spent learning how to say that to you.
You are loved. Just as you are.
Knobby kneed and completely silly.
Freckled and socially awkward.
Loud mouthed to those you love
and jittery around those you don't.
You got this.
Life is so much bigger and scary now than it will be in a few years.
And when they hand you the diagnosis saying you'll never have children...cry over it. Loud and long and hard. Mourn the period that infertility plagues your mind and heart. Just to say you gave it respect. And then move on. Yes, a wee one will never come from your body, but your home will be filled to the brim with laundry and crayons and laughter. And your boobs will stay a little perky a little longer than your friends (yes, you will get boobs. It will take at least until your 20).
May you experience every joy and every heartbreak to the fullest. It's the only way you'll ever know how to do anything, all in. It's the thing I love the most about you.
Hugs and Love,
Me.
2 comments:
B-E-A-utiful
Thank you! That was so freeing to write.
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