dear self

if i were to do it all over again, i’d tell the younger version of myself to love herself more. i’d tell her to leave every man who told her she wasn’t good enough for she’s stronger than she’ll ever know.

i’d tell her she wasn’t fat, that being a size 12 was just fine. i’d remind her that she thought the same thing when she was a size ten even if she won’t remember that time.

i’d tell her she’ll create art she’ll later destroy, and that she’ll create something that will live forever. i’d tell her to speak her truth now even if she’ll change her mind about things later.

i’d tell her to report the rape for she did nothing wrong that night. i’d beg her to stop carrying the shame of not putting up a fiercer fight.

i’d remind her not to try smoking even if all she wanted was to write about it. but she won’t have to worry about the weed because she’ll never learn to hold it.

i’d tell her to stay for the right reasons even though she’d end up doing it for the wrong ones. but you can only control so much – you win some and you lose some.

i wanted to tell her these things and more but she ran off before i could, too intent to live her life on her own terms even if she’d always be misunderstood.

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