Dear younger me, I write this letter to warn you of tough times ahead. Of things no one tells you at your age. Not to scare you but to prepare you. For I know how much you hate spontaneity(unless its an adventure; duh!)
They tell you that being out of your parent’s care and support is the hardest thing you’ll experience after high school. That being provided for is heaven compared to providing for yourself. Well that’s true.
But there is something harder than growing up itself.
Healing. And that’s not the worst part, healing is a must. To live you must heal. I hear you asking me what you are healing from. From everything my dear.
Healing from the scars caused by those supposed to have protected you from scars in the first place. Your family will hurt you. But more so your mother. And unless you heal from her wounds, you’ll end up causing more people harm.
Healing will require you to open up those wounds all over again. All those hurtful words they told you over and over again. All those actions that got you feeling unwanted. All of them. And nothing hurts more than relieving pain.
You’ll try and avoid it at first. See if you can live with the pain. But when that refuses to work, you’ll have no choice but to start the healing process. To open up the pus-oozing scars, to scrub them clean with pain-inducing drugs and to finally patch it up. That will feel like death.
And just when you thought that after healing comes bliss, you’ll be shocked. After healing comes more healing. Its like never ending surgeries. And each one will be worst than the other. More painful. More earth shattering. And no, one never gets used to it.
But something harder than that is starting anew all the time. You see, after healing comes new belief systems you must adapt, new truths you must remember. Sometimes even new friends.
And all that newness means the old must go. Because new wine can’t be put into old wineskin. Your healed self can’t think and feel like the old self. It will need adjustments into your heart and head. Change is inevitable. But that doesn’t make it any easier to adapt to. And just when you thought you have now arrived into a ‘workable’ you, you’ll start a new healing process restarting the whole damn cycle again.
I won’t start telling you how it will be worth it. Because when you are in the middle of it, worth will be the last thing in your head. When you are busy running away from issues you are supposed to deal with, whether it will be worth it won’t cross your brain. And even when you stop to deal with it, the pain and anguish doesn’t share space with thoughts of what next.
I won’t tell you to hold on there when the time comes. You won’t have the strength to.
I won’t tell you to pray. Neither will you have the strength nor words to.
But that doesn’t mean that God won’t come down to your level. Sometimes in the form of a song that tears you up.
Other times in the form of that friend that just can’t let you give up on yourself.
Brace yourself sweetheart for tough times ahead. Growing up is hard, but staying grown up is harder.