Dear Self,
I am proud of you.
You’re not yet there, not half where you want to be, but you’re doing great!
You have fought a lonely painful battle.
It is still so painful; you cry every single time you think about it.
It’s still too fresh.
I know….
I know you look forward to withdrawing from the party to cry in peace.
You tell those silly perverted jokes and make them laugh, just so you can run off alone to cry and wish you could talk to someone. They say you’re a good listener, a natural helper but you’re desperate for help. Why can’t they see it?
Maybe they’re afraid of what they’ll hear.
Maybe they are afraid they won’t know how to help.
Maybe they don’t care.
But listening is easy, why is it so hard for them?
My own family was afraid. I could see it in the way they treated me; how they were extra careful not to hurt me. They didn’t realize not showing me her tombstone was the longest dagger run through my little body….Dear Self, Hold Onto Faith…
It’s crazy.
I didn’t bury my Mother and I don’t know where she rests.
They must have good reasons.
I love them though. I have a beautiful family…. Silencing…
I am proud that you let yourself grieve.
It’s hard when everyone thinks you’re so strong.
“We don’t check on you regularly because we know you’re tough. You’re a hustler.” “That one is a tough cookie.”
My pillow heard all about it, all the questions, all the regrets, the fury, everything.
She was patient with me; she didn’t try to stop me from crying. She even let me dig my nails into her soft flesh. Inflicted as much pain onto her as I felt inside. Then she let me rest my tired head on her smooth body till I slept off.
It was like this between us for a while. She kept my secret.
No one ever knew of these pillow talk sessions..
Things have changed. It’s like you unintentionally pressed the right button.
You accepted the past with its joys and pains. You chose to be happy and not to worry.
And boy did you worry, about every little thing.
You so easily forgot that God did for you things that you couldn’t start to imagine to pray for as a 6-year-old girl. Not even Mother had dreamt that big.
I am proud of the choices you made to do better.
You didn’t have self-pity when it was the easiest thing to do. You jumped at every opportunity. You intentionally made sure that you stayed sane. I know Mother would be proud of you too.
Don’t stop; don’t beat yourself up for mistakes. Take note of the lessons. Try not to regret. So what if you scare them? They would be scared if they heard the half of it anyway. I am proud that you have even allowed yourself to trust some.
You let them see your vulnerability, I think that’s progress.
I am really glad that I am you because you have never let people’s prophesy of doom on life stop you. Remember that relative who said you would never finish school? She said you would die of HIV/AIDs before 21years.
How could people be so cruel?
I’m so glad you’re strong willed, even though it makes some of them uncomfortable.
Your rough edges are beautiful; they make you who you are.
Your brain; you thought it was messed up but someone thinks it’s a Beautiful Brain.
The loud laugh, the passion, the temper, the vulnerability. One day you will have a little girl that will look and act exactly like you and you will look at her in amazement just like Mother did so many years ago.
Also forgive your siblings’ father.
I know half the time you don’t know what the heck you’re doing.
It feels like you’re gambling through this Life thing. Maybe you are, give it your best shot. You know how you always say that you should make a movie of your life?
Exactly, you’re a star! Always remember that.
Oh and you’re a princess; you are allowed to be a little bit spoilt.
Don’t let the sad past overshadow the happy adventurous times.
You are privileged to have the kind of childhood stories you have.
Be patient,
Be patient with those that don’t understand you and the many that don’t get you. You have to understand, you’re not normal, and you’re not their usual.
It’s also not their fault. Or yours.
Its just…life….Dear Self…Don’t Poison That Tea.
Hold onto your friends.
They’re few but they are real and worth fighting for in my opinion.
Don’t apologize to anyone for making choices that uplift you.
You already know these things.
I was scared of writing this letter but the tears were worth it.
A talented man sang that,
“tears remind you you’re alive, so don’t be afraid to cry.”
There’s no such thing as too old to cry.
I am genuinely excited for the future. It looks fun.
“Don’t take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive.”
Love,
PSN
