Letter to Myself Part 1
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Letter to Myself Part 1

What would you tell your younger self?

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Letter to Myself Part 1
Musely.com

The summer before my junior year in high school, I went on a trip to Washington D.C.. On one of the last days there, we were instructed to write a letter to ourselves and that one day a few years from then we would be getting said letter in the mail. I was told to write things that I learned from my trip and stuff that I wanted to tell my future self. This inspired me to write the article. A letter to my younger self, this is what I would of told my younger self if I had the chance.

Dear Kk,

You are ten years old and your life is about to change. I am telling you this so I can prepare you for what is to come. Because I wish someone did for me, but everything turned out semi-normal for us(Because obviously I am you). Our great grandmother, Neno, is starting to become forgetful. Maybe a little too forgetful. Like leaving the stove on or she doesn't know where she put something. You try to help her, but it is getting worse. She is suffering from a horrible disease called Alzheimer's disease. It is chronic neurodegenerative disease dealing with one's memory and ability to store memories.

By the time you reach eleven, you will be moving in with your mom for the first time. Neno will be going to nursing home. And this will lead to you changing schools for the first time. I won't go into too much detail. Because you will go through hell. But I promise, we got through it.

Four middle schools later, you will be a glasses wearing, mouth full of braces, insecure young lady. Not just an awkward little girl anymore. You have been through bullying in elementary school and middle school, so it has taken a toll on you. You don't feel pretty or even remotely being able to be loved.

Your mother isn't with you. She is living with your stepfather and brother, trying to mend her relationship. You live with your grandparents now. Hence the braces and glasses, in which you knew you needed braces, but you sure didn't know about the glasses. Like when did I get blind? Um, still not sure when. I just know I suddenly couldn't see the board from the back of the classroom. Our grandparents were able to get them both for you, which in a way helps improve your way of seeing yourself.

Our grandmother makes you literally throw out all the baggy clothes and start wearing nicer clothes. Yet we would be very self conscious about what others think about us for a few more years anyway.

I just want to say, you are beautiful. You may not know it now, but you are. You should not let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't listen to them. Listen to our friends, listen to our family. They are telling the truth. You deserve love, you will be loved, and you are loved. I know we don't feel the love, but you will see it later.

You will change schools twice in high school, once at the end of our junior year and the other time at the beginning of senior year. It sucks. You didn't hate moving until now. This will start our dislike of moving to pure hatred of moving.

Leaving our friends was one of the toughest things, but we make a few new ones. We survive senior year by reading a lot of books during lunch in the library when we weren't eating we said new friends. By the time you graduate, you will no longer feel the weight of what others think about you. We don't care. And we feel a lot better about it also.

Struggling through school made us realize what we wanted to study and earn our degree in. You decide you want to go to college to become a teacher, an English Teacher to be exact.

As this letter is coming to a close, Makalae, I wanted to sum up everything that I have explained. "You is kind, you is smart, and you is beautiful," a quote from the movie The Help. I wish I realized this for the both of us, years ago. You will get through this. You will be stronger for this hell that you have been put through.

Better Late Than Never,

Your Future Self; Makalae

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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