A Love Letter to Myself
My life is nothing like I thought it would be.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived a hundred lifetimes as a hundred different versions of myself.
There was the girl who got bullied in elementary school.
The girl who spent all of high school trying to fit in.
The girl who got dumped by all of her friends and had to start over once again.
The girl who was so depressed and anxious but didn’t believe she was.
The scared and lost girl who got married.
The girl who struggled through school with no real direction.
The girl who got divorced.
The girl whose life shattered and who picked up those pieces, one by one.
The broken girl who scrambled to build a new life out of nothing.
The girl who moved across the country for law school.
The girl who let men give her less than the bare minimum because at least she had someone.
And now there’s me.
The girl trying desperately to figure out who she is and to be content and whole within herself. Alone. A girl who constantly and persistently doubts herself. A girl whose anxiety threatens to wreck her every single day. A girl who often feels less than. A girl who is trying to give herself the love and recognition she deserves for doing the hard things. A girl who is healing. A girl who loves. Who cares. A girl who can.
When I think about all these lives I’ve lived, my heart breaks. But I feel joy and gratitude at the many paths I’ve been able to forge. There is pain and hope. Strength and change.
And as I heal and change and break and grow and love…. There is life.