An Open Letter to My 15-Year-Old Self

As I was reading my newsfeed, one of my personal idols discussed the importance of writing a letter to our younger selves. The age chosen (for them) was 13. For me? It was 15. Because for me at 15, I was scared, alone and homeless….pregnant with twins and not knowing what I was going to do with the rest of my life. So this? This is an open letter to my 15-year-old self. As I write this, I wonder, what would you say to yours?

Dear Me,

I remember you. I know how scared and alone you feel right now. I know that right this second you cry yourself to sleep every night. You don’t know how you are going to do this. You feel like you failed. You feel like you gave up on the life you wanted; on the life you always dreamed of having. You felt like you gave up your normal. You haven’t.

And, dear younger me, you will feel like this for a decade or so. You will feel lost, alone, abandoned. You will be kicked figuratively and literally while you are down. You will feel that your best is never good enough. You will move all over the country. You will try to be a good wife, a good mother and always feel like you failed. There will be nights where you cry over the stove because you don’t know how to cook; because no one ever taught you. There will be days where you are terrified about the chastising that is coming when he gets home, so you will scrub walls and baseboards until your hands are cracked and bleeding. There will be days you walk two miles in subzero temperatures just to volunteer at your children’s schools. There will be days where you walk into the grocery store with a calculator, just so you don’t go over budget on the small, paltry $162 of state assistance you receive to feed your family. You will work two jobs and finish high school a year early, but still feel like a loser. And you will cry. A lot. And you will feel like giving up nearly every day. And you will look in the mirror and hate your bruised face and the scar on the forehead he gave you. 

You will tell yourself that you are horrible, rotten and awful. But here is what separates you from so many others: You will never quit. Ever.

Not only will these experiences, these horrors, teach you how to manage money and coupon and save better than anyone else you know, you will become a financial guru. You will be a nationally acclaimed and published author by the time you are 27. You will be the youngest manager of a technology training company that ever existed, and one of the very few females. You will be a successful Realtor. You will be an amazing trainer, you will be able to tell stories and draw people to you and become the highest and best version of yourself by the time you are a mere 32 years old. You will be an author. You will be an entrepreneur. You will be (in short) a rockstar. A dream you have given up on this particular day that I am writing to you; a dream you will give up on so many days after this one. But, despite it all, you will rise. Because that is what you are born to do.

After rising, however, comes the fall. Just when you feel like you have it all together, life is going to kick you in the stomach…again.

You will find out something about your family that would break most people. You will find a horrendous, horrible secret. And even though they told you that you were crazy, and even though you believed them, you still knew. And when you stay true to your heart, you will get (on video) something that will cause you to have a nervous breakdown…for two years. Something where you are hounding police, the FBI and other venues still…to this day.

You won’t believe in love. Much as you don’t right now. You won’t believe in the goodness of people. You will become mean and calloused and hateful. You will hurt people both intentionally and unintentionally, because you are so broken in yourself that you don’t know what else to do. You will do this for two full years. And you won’t know why. You will lose friends, make enemies and you won’t care. Until later.

But from this too, you will also recover.

Because, my darling 15-year-old me, in your chest beats the heart of a true warrior; a woman I didn’t (at your age) even dream I could become. Yet, here we are. Circumstances and turns of fate that would shake the core of even the most battle hardened warrior, you will survive. And you will turn these things around, and you will thrive from them. You will defeat them, in your way, in your time. You will do this because you have a warrior’s heart and a loving soul.

If I had any piece of advice to give you, 20 years in your future, it would be this: Never forget love. It will be hard some days, it will seem nearly impossible for several years, but the second you forgot this, is the second you lost yourself; the second you stopped loving yourself. And, looking back upon our collective pasts, this is the one thing I most regret.

But, my 15-year-old me, you will survive. You will conquer. Know that every experience coming toward you will shape and sharpen you; they will make you into a machine, a force of nature. They will catch fire in your soul and that fire will burn bright. So, even though things seem bleak right now, know that in years to come, peace and happiness will follow. You’ll have a life you can be proud of; and one you choose to make even better every day.

Most of all, know that I love you, and that if I were sitting next to you right now, I would hold your hand, stroke your hair, wipe the tears from your eyes, smile and make sure you know that everything is going to be okay in the end.

Because it will be. I promise. We are still here, and the heart of a warrior still beats in us both.

All my love,

Me
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