A Letter To Little Me

Hi honey,

I want to let you know we made it. After all those years of feeling unsure, all the mixed messages floating around in your young mind. All the therapy and prescriptions and moves and accomplishments and depressive episodes.

I want you to know I remember. When we sat in the outfield of our little league team to pick the flowers that caught our eye. The first time you looked at a boy wondering if you could hold his hand. Sat alone in the park, asking Creator why people were cruel.

I never got an answer on that.

I kept you alive. Through the abuse and neglect. During housing insecurity after insecurity. When so many people said it would be easier to die.

We didn’t. Die, that is.

No, instead we kept living.

Louder and brighter, drowning out all the voices that once told us to stop.

People think you’re hot, now. I know this worried you. Baked in an oven set on superficial, it took time to see your value beyond how you titillated others.

People think you’re kind, now. I know you worried the cruelty of others would wash over you, leaving a stain. It did leave a patina.

People think you’re impatient, now. You are. But in some ways, you’ve earned it. Patience born from exclusion isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

People think you’re stubborn, now. You don’t suffer fools. You worked hard to create a moral code and don’t take advice from anyone who’s borrowed theirs from a different source.

You are beautifully complicated. I would take every twist in the road, hit all the potholes, again, to keep you safe.

Just like you did.

The best part is, we’re still young. This caused you discomfort to think of, I remember. Counting the years from the beginning makes them seem so distant.

Youth, it turns out, is not so fleeting. It slowly creeps into the background, then shadows, then forgotten altogether.

We have more to do. The list grows every day.

We’ve been hang-gliding, but never parasailing. Sky-diving, but not scuba diving.

We’ve seen an elephant but never a panda. We’ve been in love but never for long.

I don’t know what exactly we’ll do next, but it’ll be fantastic.

So, thank you for surviving.

Love,

Fora