If there was some way that I could go back in time and save you from yourself, I would jump inside that time machine and fight my way to you. I would search for you in the faces until you were in front of me and I would fight for you. I would fight for the person you were becoming. If there was some way that I could write this letter and send it to you through the waves and back doors of the world, I would. And, I would pray that it could reach you at the moment that you needed to hear it. If there was something I could do to show you there is more to life, I would gladly take each leap of faith until you saw the worth of yourself in the person looking back at you in that dirty bathroom mirror.
Who you are right now is not the person you once aspired to be. You've hurt people, more than you care to admit. You've lied to people. You've made yourself into someone and something you're not. You're afraid and you're scared and I understand it but I'll never understand why this is the path you chose. You were a good kid, mostly. You hit quite a few bumps though and people have forgiven you now but you still remember what you've done. You remember every sin you committed against others and yourself but you're learning to forgive yourself, one day at a time.
Where you are right now is not temporary. If I could stop you from picking up that knife the first time I would. If I could stop you from writing out a suicide note, I would plead and beg with you to stay. And, maybe that's what I did, because you threw it away. If I could make you understand that beauty is not skin deep and that you have a beauty in your soul that cannot compare to anything else, I would show you. If I could make you see that a number on a scale or in your waistline does not define who you are as a person, I would stop you from starving yourself. I would stop you from ever passing out in that school hallway. It would have saved you from a lot of pain and heartache.
What you've experienced does not make you a victim forever. You are a survivor. You survive those ten years. They're hard and they feel as if they might never end but you make it out. You both make it out and you're alive. And you get to see your dreams come true. You get to watch yourself graduate and move away. You get to smell how home feels when you've been away for a while. You get to experience life in a different world. You get to write that book. He does not take away your light. He does not take away your life. He does not take away your gifts. You fight your way up from the bottom and you have set backs. You have relapses but you're not perfect and no one expects you to be.
Who you feel you are is not at all who you become. You drop the crazy make-up and I know how much you loved it. You let go of the ridiculously big hair. You go back to church. You find love and hope and faith in a place you never even knew you would be and you find your calling in a different country. God shows you forgiveness you thought you would never see or didn't deserve to see during a vacation Bible school in Haiti. You push yourself to be more than you ever thought you could be. And, while you don't become a ballerina or star in plays, you do great things. You accomplish more than most people your age and your're not boastful about it. These things humble you and they make you take a different look at the world. You don't go into teaching. Instead, you pursue a degree in Sociology so you can work with children and teens who were just like you. You become more opinionated and you fight for you what you believe. I love that about you.
That guy that you think hung the moon isn't the man you end up with. I can't tell you much about this part of your life because I'm still waiting on him too. You've experienced so much heartbreak and you're going to experience more than your fair share as you continue to go on your journey of seeking out love. You're going to have close calls and when you look back, you're going to realize how lucky you were to leave. You're going to find the man you think you'll marry and it will end in a heartbreak that lasts long after he's gone. And, when you move out, he'll be five minutes away from you. But you stay strong and you don't make yourself vulnerable again. Because you deserve more than that. And I wish there was some way I could show you that a man does not define your worth or who you are. You have some pretty great experiences without them. Just let it happen. Take your time. And, most importantly, learn to love yourself first. You owe it you.
Last but not least, I want you to know that I wouldn't change anything you've done. You're going to hurt yourself. You're going to hurt other people. You will experience things that make you feel like no one in this world understands you, that you're alone. But you are surrounded by the greatest support system even though you don't realize it. You have a mother who does everything you don't understand to protect you because she loves you. You have a grandmother who prays for you every day and even if you don't always get along, she loves you more than anything in this world. You have an aunt who moved here to watch you grow and she is always in your corner, even when you're in the wrong. You have a best friend you meet in the sixth grade that never stops being your friend. She is one of the greatest things you will ever gain in this life. You meet children and people in Haiti that will forever alter the way you love and the way you forgive. You have a father who tries his best and loves you, even on the days it feels like he doesn't. You have an amazing family. You truly have an amazing life. One day, you'll understand all of these things.
And I can't wait until I meet you on that day.
