#letterstomyyoungerself

I imagine the little me saw the world through pastel colours.

Laughing at clouds as they swallowed the sun,

Believing the world was all play and fun.

But when did it become so dim and blue?

Now I sink to the sound of an ocean’s heavy tune.

Dragged —

Deeper into the cold hollow depths,

By tidal waves of fear that consume

I imagine the little me lived in a field of flowers,

Every flower, a different colour abloom.

Swaying in a gentle dance with the wind,

Fields and fields for miles of pastel colours.

Never a moment of dullness,

Beneath the golden light.

There exists an misshapen, dark chasm,

On the horizon —

A tsunami gathering strength to prevail —

Once it reached the top,

There was nothing to stop it.

Nothing left to save,

That child like innocence,

Lost in the tidal waves.

I write letters to the little me,

And in turn, she comes to visit me,

When she does, she brings her flowers —

A memory she carries just for me

And for a moment,

When I was a kid, 30 felt soo old. I mean, my favorite, very fly (cause even then I had very strong ideas about what “fly” was) uncle was 30 when I was like 8 and he was such an adult in my eyes. One of the fun ones, but an adult nonetheless. I couldn’t really see his mess or his struggles because I was blinded by his fly. Back then, all I knew was that I wanted my fly to one day match his. Back then, I assumed that because that was what I wanted, that was what it would be. Never in a million years did I imagine that I would blink and suddenly thirty would be in my rearview, kids would be calling me mom, my definition of “fly,” evolved. Yet somehow, here I am: 30-something, a mother with a daughter in her senior year of high school (the horror) and a son quickly approaching the anniversary of his tenth year on earth. I’ve lived. More than many, but less than some. I’ve had experiences, good and bad. Travels, not as many as I would have hoped by now, but still so amazing and the opportunity for many more. And loves, real life, earth-shattering, path-changing loves. All of these things have been teachers and the one lesson that I have learned, that has stuck with me more than any other, is that retrospect is a muthafucka (much like chemistry, but that’s another lesson for another day) and that ultimately, things always look clearer in the rearview mirror.

When I was 15 I thought I knew who I was and what I stood for and then one day I looked in the mirror and realized that I didn’t really know the person staring back at me. That cycle repeated itself, to varying degrees, a few times over the next decade. I mean, at 15 I never imagined that at 20 I would be a single mother. When I was 20, I never imagined that by sheer persistence, audacity, and maybe a little luck, I would end up somewhat of a celebrity (in very specific circles, lol, but nonetheless) by 25. When I was 30, I realized I never could’ve imagined how fleeting that celebrity would be, or that I would know first hand what it felt like to be so close to your dreams and somehow have your path diverge without ever fully realizing them. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I fell, got back up, dusted myself off, only to fall again, get back up, dust myself off… 

What I can tell you is this: As cliche as it sounds, experience is truly the best teacher, but information and resources are at our fingertips, and just as useful. Life is an amazing gift, but it’s hard. Loss is unavoidable, and it sucks. Love doesn’t always last or conquer all. Second chances aren’t always an option. And at some point, you’ll yearn for the days when you didn’t have to wake up everyday and adult. But most importantly, where you are today, the life you are living right now, doesn’t necessarily dictate where you will end up and it doesn’t negate the possibility of the life you can create for yourself.

What I can tell you is that you are a baby for a second, a child for a minute, a teenager for an hour, but once you become an adult, if you’re one of the “lucky” ones to reach adulthood, that shit lasts foreverever… 

And that sorta sucks if you think too hard about it. Even more so if you don’t stop to think about it until you are in that foreverever phase. But this is the thing… Retrospect is a mutha… There are lessons that I’ve learned that I wish I had known at 15 or 20 or 25 because maybe I would have chosen a different path and things would’ve turned out different. Better. Truth be told, I am now and have always been surrounded by love and family and people who had forged paths before me. I’m pretty sure, that somewhere along the line, at least one of those people, tried to reach back and impart some of their wisdom. If I’m honest with myself, in my youthful arrogance I probably dismissed that wisdom as fool’s gold instead of acknowledging it for the precious jewel that it was. And so here I am. Trudging along, earning a “decent” living, taking care of my children, and living the life that I accepted, while working to make the life that I know I can create for myself a reality. 

And that brings me to you. My story is only unique in that it’s mine. But I have friends, and acquaintances, and I am lucky enough to live in a world where an insightful (*insert sarcastic smirk here) look at someone else’s life is only a double-tap away. So I know that there are a LOT of stories out there; some similar to mine and some drastically different. And I’m curious, and I read, and I pay attention, so I know that for many of us, we could write an encyclopedia full of all the things we wish we could tell our younger selves. In my case, I could write two; one for the me of my memories, and one for my own daughter (and yours too) because as a woman, I know that we spend so much of our young lives being who others need us to be that finding ourselves; finding out who we really are, and even better, who we have the potential to be, often takes the back seat. And maybe that’s the same for men? I don’t really know, but maybe one of you could answer that for me. What I do know is that since society and media and often even our own friends and families have such strong opinions about who we should be and how we should be, if we aren’t careful, we’ll wake up one day and realize that we’ve looked everywhere but in our own hearts to discover who we really are. 

So that’s what I want to do. Create a space where we can share the stories and lessons, and #neverforgets that we would tell our younger selves. Because tomorrow, the you that’s reading this right now will literally be your younger self and your story is still being written. And there is a whole generation of young people who I believe could benefit from hearing our stories as much as we can benefit from sharing them… And what if that young person was your sibling, or your child, or you? 

So yea… maybe it’s a long shot. And maybe this (my very first tumbler post) will end up discarded like so many of the blogs I’ve created in the past (it’s a horrible place to be; stuck between having a story to tell and being deathly afraid of having your story read and dissected and shared) or maybe this thing will grow wings and fly. I can’t call it but I’m here to take the plunge. Because what do we have to lose really? If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that retrospect is a muthaf*cka and that things are always clearer in the rearview mirror. 

I would have stayed in school. Skipping class for weeks straight..to sleep? Maybe I wouldn’t have been so depressed. Maybe, I’d be successful by now. Happy.

Taking that hit is going to be the worst decision of your life and you’re going to have to prepare for a lifetime agony of distrust and paranoia.

Those boys you shared your lips with will not save you. They don’t care about you. They will never feel anything for you. And the next guy won’t either. Instead of trying to be loved by everyone, focus on your self-worth before it ruins the day you finally meet someone who gives two shits about you, because he’s slowly losing hope in the fact you may never love him like he loves you.

Yay, your first job! Instead of spending every dime you have, because you’re 17 with no bills weighing you down, put that shit in a savings account and don’t touch it. That way you’re not struggling four years from now making $500 car payments, and now those bras you bought from Victoria’s Secret every weekend, don’t even fit you now. Bravo.

Its when you have nothing left,when you are tired and you feel like you cant go on...and you still push harder. That's what makes you a champion.

No excuses. Find a way. Make it happen. Don't take no for an answer. Don't apologize for being you! Make yourself happy. Love others and always strive for greatness with God.

Always look for God in everything that you do and you will never be lost.