I wish I could tell you that everything worked out the way you thought it would, but it didn’t. It worked out the way it was supposed to, like life always does. It takes a long time for you to learn that.
You work your ass off when it comes to your dreams. You persevere despite all of the odds stacked against you. You laugh. You cry. You love. Sometimes harder than you should. Love is never lost. It always comes back to you. Like energy recycled, and always bigger, brighter, and better than before.
People come, go, and some even stay. You spend a long time searching for some kind of reciprocation from people. Something more. But you find it in yourself. Your heart breaks. You actually break a few hearts yourself. You’re a rock for a lot of people. People don’t know how to handle the funny and strong girl going through a hard time. You become your own rock. More like a crystal. Shining through all of the cracks.
Are you ready for this one? Your mom is your best friend. Crazy, right? But she has always been the string that holds everything together. And when you’re thirteen, your mom gives birth to a healthy baby boy. And everything changes. Life can never be called dull again. Your heart expands and then there’s this boy who looks like you and your mom, and your dad all mixed together with long limbs and a loud voice and a personality of his own. He sighs and rolls his eyes when you tell him about life and all of your childhood photos look like his and you don’t really know where he ends and you begin.
You encounter many people who want to numb pain. So, they have sex with anyone, they get high, they get drunk, anything to not feel. But you feel your way through everything. Even when the pain is so great that it takes your breath away, you warrior your way through it. You spend so much time worrying and being scared and everything always comes out okay, you make sure of it.
You never let a man define who you are. You read thousands of books. You get lost in the words and found again. You place a lot of importance on being smart and not society’s version of what is beautiful. You come into your own. Your happy place is any ghost town or small city.
You learn that your voice and feelings are important and valid. And somewhere along the way, you fall in love with yourself.
I know you’re not going to believe me, but trust me.
I’m writing from the future.
We did okay, kid.
I love you the most.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 