Dear Me…

I was reading a thread on a forum I belong too and the OP challenged us all to write a letter to ourselves at 17. If we knew then what we know now or could have a “do-over” what would we say/do? What wisdom have we gleaned from our life experiences that would have really helped us back then? What silly things did we hold fast to, that weren’t worth the effort?

I thought it was an interesting idea and there are certainly a lot of insights I have now that I didn’t have at seventeen. While I am a big believer that your experiences, both good and bad, form who you are and shouldn’t be regretted- it’s really amazing to reflect on what you would change if you could. So here goes it…

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Dear Me at Seventeen,

First of all, I love you. I don’t even think you fully know what a gift that is yet, but you will. I recognize your value and your worth as a human being. I recognize that God makes no mistakes and he made you the way you are for a purpose.

You are smart, really smart and that is not a bad thing. Stop dumbing yourself down for people who you won’t ever see after highschool. University is meant for studying, not partying. If you miss that memo you will forever regret it.

Follow your passions. Never lose your creativity or love of dance and worship. Opportunities will present themselves if you seek after them. Remember when you move away from home and try to find a church- to seek God and not the church itself. You may never find a church like CBC, but you will find something just as good (just different) if you have a heart to find God.

Watch your mouth. Your sarcasm may get a few laughs but it cuts people more than you know. BE funny, but not at other people’s expense. You love to laugh- and your sense of humour will help you deal with unimaginable pain.

You have had a Cinderella complex in the past- get over it! Not every man is going to be Prince Charming. You need to tell someone about how that ex abused you and you need to NEVER allow anyone to make you feel that small again. Men are not toys, even though you can play them, you will break at least one heart and you will always regret that.

You will find love, at seventeen, and if you stay faithful to him he will never lead you astray. You are actually dating your future husband, treat him accordingly.

The world is not black and white. There is not always clearly defined lines of “right” and “wrong”. It’s ok to not pick a side, sometimes.

Your faith is your foundation. If you let it crack it will weaken your identity.

Don’t let people’s opinions of you affect your opinion of yourself. Stop lying, they know when your full of crap.

Get out of negative friendships. You have one person in particular who will wound you so deeply that you will spend years trying to rid yourself of the bitterness. You don’t need to pour yourself out to her only to be rejected, betrayed and misled. You cannot allow her to steal your joy. Ask for help and confront the situation with someone else present.

Beauty is not only found within, it is created within. You are blessed enough to be beautiful on the outside too. I know you don’t feel that way and every pimple and bulgy bit of skin seems repugnant to you- but you are really beautiful. Enjoy being skinny- it doesn’t last!

You will one day be appreciated for your listening and heartfelt wisdom. You will learn more about people if you do not judge them. You will gain many lifelong friendships by just listening when they need it.

Drama does not always equal interest. There are better ways to fill your time.

You are an old soul in a young body- celebrate that. Celebrate that you have a headstart on other people instead of being embarassed.

Invest in a little company called Starbucks and another called Google- it’s a goooood idea.

Love always, Yourself

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So I challenge you, my very few readers, to write a letter to yourself at 17. Or even write one now to yourself at 30, 40 or 50. It’s interesting and revealing!

A pocket full of stones…

 

If you’ve ever been around anyone churchy, chances are you’ve heard the poem Footprints. It’s all about a guy walking along a beach (his life). He looks back and during the good times there were two sets of footprints (God and him) and during the rough times he only sees one set of footprints. And this guy gets all and at God and demands to know why he would have left him alone during the hardest times in his life and God assures him that he never left, where there is only one set of footprints, that is God carrying him.

I grew up with this poem and I always thought it was a neat parable. But it got me to thinking, when I look back at the footprints of my life… where have I been? As a child, I collected rocks. Whenever we went to the beach I would spend most of the time looking down at the ground. The ones I wanted to keep I would give to my parents for safe-keeping. Well after twenty or thirty “special” rocks the weight would add up and my parents would start dumping them out when I wasn’t looking. In the same way I have collected rocks through my life. I have picked up pretty ones and not so pretty ones and now they are becoming heavy…

It just struck me how much the past really affects us. How much our childhood experiences taint us for good or bad. For example, a child that is hit so much he thinks its normal will likely grow up to hit out of anger. It’s sad but true. I was raised to be an over-achiever, a perfectionist. Not because my parents were horrible, but because they truly wanted the best out of me. They wanted me to “be all I could be”. I stood out so much in school for being smart. I never was a “nerd” but I was always set apart for my intelligence. Even in highschool, my teachers would make special arrangements for me and set me apart from others. Then I got to university and I became a number. No one cared about my circumstances or who I was. If I didn’t perform like “so” I reaped the consequences! I had such a difficult time staying motivated if no one told me I did a good job. I find it hard to be proud of myself for what I do on its own merit. I feel like if my achievements are unrecognized than I have not achieved anything at all. How pathetic… one more stone in my pocket.

All the stones I carry of broken friendships, fears, misunderstandings and disillusionments weigh me down. My pockets are literally bulging with these dirty, broken stones. If I look closer, I carry some pretty stones too. Like the friend I have an inappropriate attraction too and our memories of old times together. What a pretty memory. The pretty stones are the memories of being skinny and attractive, all the boys I’ve kissed and the juicy, precious moments of my past. Even the pretty ones weigh me down.

My footprints are far deeper than they need to be. When will I become smart enough to dump out my pockets? To empty this mass I have carried so voluntarily? Could my next set of footprints really be lighter? Could I be energized enough to run or skip? I would be much more likely to dance in the sand if I wasn’t so petrified of losing my precious cargo.

What do you carry with you?

Another day, another dollar

Sick.

That’s what I am. Sick. *groan* I feel like crap. Probably lower than crap. Yuck! No matter what I come down with- cold, flu, bubonic plague- it always ends up with a sinus infection! My whole face feels swollen, I can’t breathe and what’s that? Oh right, I get to operate switchboard at work all day. Nothing says professional like a croaky, just smoked 3 packs of cigarettes “Good Morning!” I disgust myself.

But that’s right, I am still at work. No I did not stay home curled up in my duvet with a hot cup of tea reading the latest Harry Potter book. No! I am a trooper and I actually showed up today. Not that anyone cares really. My boss is on holidays and currently my days consist mostly of Facebook, online poker, Splitcoaststampers and now this lovely new addiction- blogging. Alright so I exaggerate a bit, I still do work in his absence, but since he’s the source of most of my work, it really slows when he’s not here.

Today is Wednesday. I’m so happy it’s the middle of the week already. Friday is certainly looming on the horizon and I can practically taste the weekend already! Not that I do anything exciting with my weekends per say, but I enjoy not having to do anything. It’s the lack of expectations and requirements that make weekends so sweet I think. I plan to spend most of this upcoming one outside.

I just discovered “outside” recently as lame as that sounds. All summer long I have cooped myself up in my house venturing out only for special events. Then the other night Big Fella (my husband) and I took our puppy to the playground behind our house. We swung on the swings with him and even had him try out a couple slides. For the record, he’s not a fan. Then we hiked up to the top of the hill and sat up there until darkness fell. It’s still warm enough to have flipflops and a light sweater on. We played fetch with Mr. B (the puppy) and he LOVED it! That dog never gets tired of playing. Considering his legs are like 4 inches long, he can run really fast! I love the way he listens to me. The way his little black ears perk up and he looks at me just waiting for a command. I am so proud of how well trained he is. It gives me hope that I’ll one day be a decent mother. 

Well… I should stop babbling on now. I know this post is a bit convoluted but to be honest, it’s what it was intended to be. I’m trying not to censor myself. To express each and every one of the random things that cross my mind- if only for the ten minutes a day I get to write this. Cheap therapy. But still effective, at least two days in.

Last minute thoughts: I miss my mother, I want to be able to breathe normally and I like getting to know myself.

*knock knock* Anyone in there?

Well I have definately done the blog thing before. Twice in fact. Never on this particular site but twice in my life I have sat down and started to write on a blog, thinking, “Hey what a great idea. I love to write”.  And each time the writing would continue for a few days, a few months, one of them I have kept for over a year.

But regardless, the urge and passion to write dissapates. People I know start to comment or have opinions on the things I write and slowly but surely I start to withdraw. I think it starts the first time someone I know personally gets offended by something I write. The he-said she-said starts and even though no offence was intended, I will apologize and be sure to watch what I write from now on. So I withdraw just a little bit more. And this continues on and on until my blog resembles a day planner of my life. It’s just where I went with who - oh and here’s a picture for good measure. 

Eventually that bores me to tears and I have no interest in continuing to write. I want to be able to EXPRESS with my writing. To pour my heart and soul and insecurites out on the page/screen. I want to re-read my post tomorrow and feel what I was feeling today. I don’t want every word I write to be analyzed. I don’t want you to sit here and analyze all the things I MIGHT have implied.

It’s not that I don’t value other opinions or perspectives, quite the opposite. I want to have people challenge me and test me in the way I hope that my writing might challenge or test someone else. I want to have my mind opened and my opinions broadened by other’s experiences. But do not come here to judge me. Do not come here to pick apart my words and find whatever negative may lie within them. Instead find hope, find vulnerability, find the passion that lies within my grammatical errors. Find me.

I do not care if another soul reads this. I do not care if I never tell another person it exists. But if a stranger or even a friend happens upon this one day, I hope they smile and look within themselves and start the search for who they are. Because that’s what this is. The very first step into my written journey of self-discovery.  Today I have discovered that I am both dark but lovely. Dark because I am not fully known or explored, sinful and hidden. Lovely because I am reaching and striving, willing to shine light upon my darkness and discover what lies beneath.