For Just Be Enough today, we were invited to write a letter to our 16 yr old self, so I thought about doing it, but then I remembered that my amazing and completely phenomenal friend, Jamie of Chosen Chaos, had asked me to write a letter to myself at 18 just a few months ago.
“Why rewrite anything?” I thought.
I mean how many letters would I write to that permed haired, braces wearing, eyes filled with dreams and romantic illusions girl? This one, when I read it, is exactly what I would say to myself at 16, 18, 30 and maybe 41. (wink)
I encourage any of you who have not taken the time to write to that child you were, to do so. Let them know that where you are right now, is the best possible place to be, because whatever it was that is still holding you back from all those years ago …YOU SURVIVED!
here is my letter from Jamie’s space, (something I am proud I wrote)
Ms. Kir.… if you had the opportunity to sit down with your 18 year old self, what would you say to her?
I sat across from her, looking into her as you do a mirror.
I squinted and sat back, contemplating her.
Her features and smile were so familiar, it was as if they greeted me in the looking glass every day, but her permed hair hardened with hair spray and her blue eyes that were unlined and void of any true sadness made me revaluate my first impression.
I leaned forward, my hand stretching to touch hers. A gold ring with a dark emerald green stone adorned her finger, the Old English K unblemished and sparkling.
I gasped, “Do I know you?”
She smiled, a mouth of silver twinkling back at me, and nodded.
I felt her urgency then, how she swung between desperation and delight for a glimpse into herself.
She regarded my mere presence as a gift, a prophecy.
I was caught.
I knew at once that my choices were limited.
I could talk to her, disclose and forewarn, scare her silly, whisper the juicy secrets she seemed so eager to have me impart.
I could prepare her; for the heartaches, for the roads that she would need every ounce of strength to travel and the grief she would suffer as she lost people, love and dreams.
I thought about tapping her hand and stroking her hair, begging her to make good decisions, to be careful about boys, booze and best friends.
Or maybe regale her with tales of her own shenanigans and moments that others may dismiss as mistakes and missteps. Remind her that life is only as serious as you allow it to be and that the pure act of laughing will save you every time.
How do you articulate the fact that those memories are the ones that will keep her warm when her world goes cold?
I could paint her pictures of the places she will visit, the lips she will kiss, the hearts that will take her in and let her stay a while, spraying the canvas with colors so vivid and rich that they charm and enchant her.
My voice could get conspiratorial, reminding her that it is her distinction and deep emotional side that will give her wings to help her fly.
In hushed tones I could remind her to stand out and stand up against all odds.
You do not need to be like everyone else.
So I lifted my eyes and met hers, peered into the same blue pools swimming in the same dreamy expression, and made my decision.
As I watched her face glow with expectation and hope for all the answers, I said instead:
“Sweet girl, young woman at the start of your path.…you are going to be just fine.”
See, I told her (ME) that she will be ENOUGH, even when she feels like she’s really really not.
Now it’s your turn: Write, Link and Share your Story with us.
NEXT WEEK’S PROMPT:
or feel free to write any “JUST BE ENOUGH ME” story and share it with us.
We’d loved to read your words!
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I love that you made this a conversation…that you saw yourself through your teenage eyes.
I wish I could go back too and tell her me…that everything will work out.
Xoxo
and it will my sweet beautiful friend, it will.
thank you for this gorgeous comment, it touched me deep down. xoxo
You were much nicer to your self than I was: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2011/12/28/onlyamemory/
I like the part where you told 18 year old you that she doesn’t have to be like everyone else. That’s brilliant.
I think you turned out great even without this conversation.
I truly think that is one thing I wish I could just go back and whisper in her ear, to tell her to stop trying to fit in and compromise herself and her “Stuff”….she can go so much further if she just let it all go and was herself.
thanks for this comment…and I liked your piece at Jamie’s.
I loved that. How beautiful. I was just thinking along the same lines yesterday. My 18 year old is getting ready to graduate. There’s so much I want to protect him from, prepare him for…but I came to the same conclusion. I survived. The only way to learn is to live.
Jamie, first you don’t look old enough to have an 18 yr old son..but that aside, I know. Our Niece is graduating in a few weeks and she has lots of questions…I want to give her the answers, I want to protect every hair on her head but I also know that sometimes my mistakes or missteps were the greatest blessings in disguise. I will be here if she falls…but the climb is all her.
your comment meant so much to me, thank you. And Congratultions on that successful son of yours. xo
I love how you handled this! Our experiences form who we are today. I won’t trade mine for anything.
oh thank you, I’m so glad you liked it. I love when you visit me. I wouldn’t trade anything for mine journey either.
She sounds like a pretty cool chick to me.
HI you…hope your Mother’s day was just as special as you are. I owe you a visit, I’ll be over tomorrow and “camping out” xoxoxo
I bet our 18 yr old selves would have liked each other
That 18 year old girl should be proud of the woman she became. And yes, you ARE enough.
I’d say Thank you but I’m too busy sniffling away teary eyes. xoxo
Your words are so beautiful. I love that you made this into a conversation with yourself. Awesome.
Oh thank you so much, for reading this and for leaving me those words. I appreciate it more than you know. Hope you had a great Mother’s Day.
I loved it there and loved it here
xo
Thank you…my sweet friend. xo
Writing it as a conversation was brilliant. And it was just enough words that if it had happened maybe, just maybe she would have actually listened.
Oh thank you so much for saying that. I wish I could tell her that she was always enough and I wish she’d believe it.
Love this. Like my husband says all the time about his checkered, ill-spent youth, “I wouldn’t change anything because if I did, I wouldn’t be where I am right now”.
my most FUN memories are those moments I should probably regret…but why do that, when it made me who I am? I like the way your hubby thinks
love you darlin, can’t wait to hug you in a few days.
This is beautiful, Kir. What perfect advice. At any age.
oh thank you my friend, of all the things that I’ve written in the past few months, this is still one of my favorites…I’m so glad other people are seeing it that way too.
I just wrote my letter for Jamie too! Yours? Beautiful. Like you. Have a great weekend, Kir!
Oh I read it, I loved yours too.
have a great weekend Missy…let’s chat THP soon ok? xo