Letter #7 "Dear Younger Me"

Dear younger me,

If ever in the future they invent a time machine, I'll make damn sure you get this. Because you need to hear this.

You won't ever change, yet you will end up a completely different person than who you were. You'll change in only one way, and it's the most important thing that will ever happen to you.
You'll stop being scared. Of who you are, of who you want to be, of how you want to look, of who you want to love. And it feels beautiful. And I wish you could do it sooner.

You'll always be loud. You'll always draw attention to yourself. You'll learn in time that is not a bad thing. No point in hiding it. In a few years, you'll be begging your older self to never stop being loud.
They will try to shut you up. They'll tell you nobody likes a loud girl. Nobody likes a girl who always has to say her opinion. Fuck those people.
I know you look at the little shy girls who get all the boys. You wish you could be more like them. you don't understand why being loud and noticed is a bad thing.
You never will.
You'll try to disappear. You'll wish you're invisible. That was never who you were.
Be loud. Be strong. Say what you mean without fear or guilt.

It's okay to love yourself. Even if you feel like nobody else does. Nobody else matters. It was always only you.

You got boobs before anyone else in class. You hated them. You tried to hide it. You never realized that all the looks you got weren't judgment and hate. They were jealousy. It'll continue for a few years, then you'll all grow up.

It's okay to like girls.

You think you don't have a choice in who you "date", so you'll be with anyone who approaches you. Have more self-respect. You'll find people who love you and who you will love back. You won't be with them forever, and that sucks. But you'll have beautiful times. Just wait for a bit, they're on their way.

I won't spoil it for you, but amazing things are coming, and a few shitstorms as well.
When you're sad, remember you're not alone.
When you miss someone (and you'll do that a lot), remember you'll see them again. Even if they're really far away right now.
Take a lot of pictures and look at them often. Spend at least as much time making wonderful memories as you do thinking about them.

Don't stop dancing, you'll miss it too much.

I'm proud of you for not having to tell you that your body is your own and that you have the right to say "no". You always knew that.

You'll often wish you were somewhere else with people who understand you a million times better than anyone you grew up with. You still wish that. More and more so every time you see them, and have to say goodbye.

You were strong-headed from the moment you were born. It's okay to ask for help. You can't do everything alone, and you don't want to be alone. Just admit it to yourself and spend time with people who appreciate you.

For anyone who tells you to never change, teach them change is good. Cut the strings tying you to people who are toxic and who don't make you be a better you.

You'll make it. Through it all. You'll make it, I promise. Just never stop being you. That's the important part. You're awesome and don't let anyone tell you you're dreaming too big or being too ambitious. You'll wow them all.

Love,
Your slightly older self

P.S. Skirts fit you better than pants, and you're allowed to wear them.
P.P.S. Spend more time with your brothers. They'll move out soon.

The Sailor and his Rose

When I was a little girl, I remember asking my grandmother to tell me the story about the Sailor and his rose. She would make me think she wouldn't tell it, but I knew she would when I'd see her putting the kettle on.

When I was just a boy, my father and I planted an oak tree. It was somewhere far away, or at least then it seemed far away. We would go every year and visit it. It grew taller each year.

I remember she use to wrap us both tight in a blanket and start the story with "Once upon a time". Well... Once upon a time, there was a Sailor and his rose. The Sailor loved his rose very dearly, but when he would have to go to the sea, he would leave the rose behind, promising he will return.

Every year, when we would go to the oak, I would talk to it. My father would just leave us there, he knew I had a lot to tell. And when I was suppose to leave, I would promise I will return, because I knew he would be waiting. 

One day, the sea started raging. It came down on the Sailor's ship like a monster, devouring it. The Sailor fought, with all his strength, crying the name of his dear Rose. But the sea was stronger.

The first year I didn't see my oak, I was age twelve. My father just said, "next year, champ". Back then I didn't know young trees brake when the wind is strong.

What he didn't know that while he was screaming her name instead of taking breaths of air, Rose was with another man.

The wind was too strong. When I took my first shot, it broke me. I tried to resist, to fight, to stay strong, but the drug was too much. I had to give in. I was just a young tree... And the winds were to strong.

Rose didn't care! Rose was drinking off another man's lips! Rose was sinking deeper and deeper into sin. Rose could feel that the Sailor was dying, but Rose didn't care!
...And my grandma never told me that. She didn't think it was important, maybe. She didn't think I could take it. But I did. And day after day, I sit and wait for him to come back.

The winds blow both ways, and the one that thought that could destroy me, never could have guessed there is a stronger wind. One so much more powerful. One that would push me back to shore. Because people aren't oaks. And one day, I came back.

When I learned that the story was actually what it is, I couldn't blame my grandmother for not telling me. I would be hurt by it. But it was a strange place, where I heard how the story goes... In a pub on the docks. I was sitting when I saw the framed piece of paper. Old, burnt, drowned. But the text was so clear... "The Sailor and his Rose".

I walked into a pub on the docks, and sat by a most beautiful woman. "Hello", I said, "My name is Sailor."

"Hi.

...I'm Rose."  

Definitions.

Define.


Love - a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
         - a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.

Memory - a mental impression retained; a recollection.

Faith - confidence or trust in a person or thing.
        - belief that is not based on proof.
        - belief in anything, as a code of ethics, standards of merit, etc.

Wish - to want; desire; long for
         - to entertain wishes

Story - a fictitious tale, shorter and less elaborate than a novel.

Elephant - either of two large, five-toed pachyderms of the family Elephantidae,characterized by a long, prehensile trunk formed of the nose and upper lip.

Home - a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person,family, or household.
          - the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.

Definition - the act of making definite, distinct, or clear; a defining:
               - the condition of being definite, distinct, or clearly outlined

Cicmila