I saw a picture of my high school this morning. An old classmate had posted it on Instagram stories. We do not talk much, or at all, beyond reacting to each other's posted pictures once in a while if they mention a milestone reached.
I worked hard to get into that school. The best place you could go to in the city if you wanted to go to Harvard. I wanted to go to Harvard. I had wanted to go to Harvard since I was 11. I had heard that one of my American cousins had earned a scholarship to go to Harvard Summer School that summer. I didn't know what Harvard was. We had internet at the house by then and I knew how to connect the dial-up. In some of the many stolen hours of browsing, I found out it was only the best university in the world. Of course, I wanted to go there. What I would do there, I had no idea, but to Harvard, I was going.
I graduated from high school in 2009. It was a tough year. Like the year before had been. And all the years of my life leading up to it. However, I was never lost as I was the day I started college. I was not going to Harvard.
More than a decade later, as I happened across the picture of my alma mater, it pulled on my heartstrings. Not because of the fond memories attached to the place but in thinking of the lost girl who graduated from there. If I knew then what I know now, I would tell her to worry less. I'd tell her to let loose a little for there are things that she was worried about that will turn out alright and yet there are things that she will have to face that she cannot imagine, so to enjoy the relative carefreeness and fill her cup with joy. I would break the taboo she had against joy and filling her cup. I'll tell her that self-sacrifice is not, in fact, a virtue despite how it is touted in her society. The sacrifice of one's inner peace is not a sacrifice that can be compensated by anything in the world. I'd tell her that having no regrets is also not a way to get to that inner peace. I'll tell her that she will do things that she will be unsure about even years later. That she'll make tough decisions, faced with questions with no right or wrong answers, and live in a sea of uncertainty. I'll tell her the only way of coming out on the other side if there is any, is to live each day as it comes. Each day to the best of your ability that day. And to forgive yourself for what wasn't in your control, or ability. It wasn't meant for you anyway because God doesn't burden a soul beyond what it can bear.
I will tell her to get comfortable with not having all the answers because she may never have them all. And she isn't meant to be. She is human. Not God.
I will tell her to guard her heart. I'll tell her that she is beautiful, she was created complete and whole because God created her and God creates beauty. I will tell her to not let the society, her mother, anyone, tell her that she needed to be 'fairer', 'thinner', 'have longer hair', 'have better cooking skills', 'have better make-up skills', or anything that she isn't already, to deserve the love of a man. That to not worry about finding a soulmate. To not cry over the countless people she said no to, and to not be bothered by the four rejections she received, there were a lot more to come :D
I'll tell her to let herself laugh with abandon without fear of her mother. I'll tell her to not feel guilty about her father leaving her mother. I'll tell her she isn't responsible for taking care of her family. it's her parents' responsibility. I'll tell her to keep loving with abandon, to pursue her ideas despite the opposition and the naysayers and her own procrastination.
There is so much more I'll tell her about her own resilience and life every step of the way. I'll tell her to not worry about having children or putting them in her third five-year plan. I'll remind her that children are God's gift, which He gives, however, and whenever He wishes, if He wishes. I will tell her of the two beautiful ones she will be blessed with over the next decade. I'll tell her of the goodness in her two marriages within the next decade. I'll tell her of the smiles, and laughter, knowledge, and love shared in these years. I'll tell her of the joy of sex and tell her that she wasn't too big in places or too small or too ugly to attract a man as her mother had told her. I'll tell her that to some, she'll be the most beautiful woman on earth and to some, beyond ordinary, but none of that is actually true and none of that is actually about her.
I'll tell her to cherish her health. I'll tell to strengthen her body, as she did her mind and soul. I will tell her that none of that work is ever done. Your soul needs to be nourished every day constantly, just as your body does, and really, so does your mind and heart. I'll tell her that she is strong. One of the strongest she will ever meet. And to trust the strength of character and faith that God has put in her even, and especially, when others don't and seek to make you believe otherwise. I will tell her that being strong doesn't mean to be strong at all times. She will never be invincible. She is not God.
But, I'll say, you have God. So stay close and He will take care of you beyond your wildest imagination. I'll tell her to let go and let God. I'll tell her to keep that smile on her beautiful lips and the twinkle in her deep eyes. I'll tell her to keep the spring in her step and to keep her heart light. I'll tell her to help others more. I will tell her to make remembrance of God her lifestyle. I'll tell her to say her words, and to trust their power. I'll tell her about the people she'll influence over the next decade, knowingly or unknowingly. But, I'll tell her, filter your words through kindness and love.
And all these things, that I will tell my 18-year-old self, I think my 29-year-old self also needs to hear, for the decade ahead.
I worked hard to get into that school. The best place you could go to in the city if you wanted to go to Harvard. I wanted to go to Harvard. I had wanted to go to Harvard since I was 11. I had heard that one of my American cousins had earned a scholarship to go to Harvard Summer School that summer. I didn't know what Harvard was. We had internet at the house by then and I knew how to connect the dial-up. In some of the many stolen hours of browsing, I found out it was only the best university in the world. Of course, I wanted to go there. What I would do there, I had no idea, but to Harvard, I was going.
I graduated from high school in 2009. It was a tough year. Like the year before had been. And all the years of my life leading up to it. However, I was never lost as I was the day I started college. I was not going to Harvard.
More than a decade later, as I happened across the picture of my alma mater, it pulled on my heartstrings. Not because of the fond memories attached to the place but in thinking of the lost girl who graduated from there. If I knew then what I know now, I would tell her to worry less. I'd tell her to let loose a little for there are things that she was worried about that will turn out alright and yet there are things that she will have to face that she cannot imagine, so to enjoy the relative carefreeness and fill her cup with joy. I would break the taboo she had against joy and filling her cup. I'll tell her that self-sacrifice is not, in fact, a virtue despite how it is touted in her society. The sacrifice of one's inner peace is not a sacrifice that can be compensated by anything in the world. I'd tell her that having no regrets is also not a way to get to that inner peace. I'll tell her that she will do things that she will be unsure about even years later. That she'll make tough decisions, faced with questions with no right or wrong answers, and live in a sea of uncertainty. I'll tell her the only way of coming out on the other side if there is any, is to live each day as it comes. Each day to the best of your ability that day. And to forgive yourself for what wasn't in your control, or ability. It wasn't meant for you anyway because God doesn't burden a soul beyond what it can bear.
I will tell her to get comfortable with not having all the answers because she may never have them all. And she isn't meant to be. She is human. Not God.
I will tell her to guard her heart. I'll tell her that she is beautiful, she was created complete and whole because God created her and God creates beauty. I will tell her to not let the society, her mother, anyone, tell her that she needed to be 'fairer', 'thinner', 'have longer hair', 'have better cooking skills', 'have better make-up skills', or anything that she isn't already, to deserve the love of a man. That to not worry about finding a soulmate. To not cry over the countless people she said no to, and to not be bothered by the four rejections she received, there were a lot more to come :D
I'll tell her to let herself laugh with abandon without fear of her mother. I'll tell her to not feel guilty about her father leaving her mother. I'll tell her she isn't responsible for taking care of her family. it's her parents' responsibility. I'll tell her to keep loving with abandon, to pursue her ideas despite the opposition and the naysayers and her own procrastination.
There is so much more I'll tell her about her own resilience and life every step of the way. I'll tell her to not worry about having children or putting them in her third five-year plan. I'll remind her that children are God's gift, which He gives, however, and whenever He wishes, if He wishes. I will tell her of the two beautiful ones she will be blessed with over the next decade. I'll tell her of the goodness in her two marriages within the next decade. I'll tell her of the smiles, and laughter, knowledge, and love shared in these years. I'll tell her of the joy of sex and tell her that she wasn't too big in places or too small or too ugly to attract a man as her mother had told her. I'll tell her that to some, she'll be the most beautiful woman on earth and to some, beyond ordinary, but none of that is actually true and none of that is actually about her.
I'll tell her to cherish her health. I'll tell to strengthen her body, as she did her mind and soul. I will tell her that none of that work is ever done. Your soul needs to be nourished every day constantly, just as your body does, and really, so does your mind and heart. I'll tell her that she is strong. One of the strongest she will ever meet. And to trust the strength of character and faith that God has put in her even, and especially, when others don't and seek to make you believe otherwise. I will tell her that being strong doesn't mean to be strong at all times. She will never be invincible. She is not God.
But, I'll say, you have God. So stay close and He will take care of you beyond your wildest imagination. I'll tell her to let go and let God. I'll tell her to keep that smile on her beautiful lips and the twinkle in her deep eyes. I'll tell her to keep the spring in her step and to keep her heart light. I'll tell her to help others more. I will tell her to make remembrance of God her lifestyle. I'll tell her to say her words, and to trust their power. I'll tell her about the people she'll influence over the next decade, knowingly or unknowingly. But, I'll tell her, filter your words through kindness and love.
And all these things, that I will tell my 18-year-old self, I think my 29-year-old self also needs to hear, for the decade ahead.
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