Let It Happen



Dear Younger Me,

In all candor and brutal honesty, I'm here to tell you that when you're hurt by someone close to you, the tears won't stop right away and the pain will keep you awake at night for days. It will get worse before it gets better. And through the years, no matter how many times you go through the same process, it does not get easier. It sounds dire because it is, but it's also the only way you turn out the way you should.

The mistakes? You will make them again. And again. And again. Because you are stubborn until you are not. The consequences won't be pretty, in fact, they are so bad they'll make you want to turn back the clock one second before you did what you did. I wish I could say you will not regret them every time you remember; but you will and that (regret), too, is important.

The unguarded moments of laughter, snippets of adventure, the occasions you feel alive will be countless and the episodes you are not quite yourself would be far less common. I'm tempted to tell you to linger longer in those happy and carefree hours, to not rush through to the next high, to not cram your days with action-filled activities; but this (the rushing), too, will serve its purpose. 

The impetuousness, the desire to achieve everything within a specific time frame, the relentless drive to pursue dreams according to controllable terms, and the impatience to get to the end results as quickly as possible are not ideal; but then, who doesn't have a thorn in their flesh? No one is perfect. You are hard on yourself because you have been raised to aspire for excellence; but despite your flaws and eccentricities, there are people who love you and you them. I want to tell you not to beat yourself up for not being the smartest or the most refined and polished china in the cupboard and to focus on how God and the people who care about you see you; but this (being hard on yourself), too, is an integral part of your story. 

You are acutely aware of the hate and the ugly and the hopelessness that's in the world. And you want to understand why. Why the poverty? Why are there hungry, suffering, abused, and unwanted children? Why are wars inevitable? But what do the answers to these questions really do in the grand scheme of things? I would like to tell you that at some point in your life you will stop crying for children whose parents would rather indulge their own need to be validated and that you'll be able to shrug off stories of four-year-olds abandoned by their mothers; alas, I can't. But this (the crying), too, despite it being a tad dramatic, is by design. 

On a lighter note, you feel deeply and intensely and you are excited about falling in love. Love is not elusive and you know it too well. But you are careful with who you let into your personal space, into your heart. Is that the best thing to do? Would your life be more fascinating if you take more risks on those who would like to take that same risk with you? Would your perspective on relationships be wider and more informed? I don't have the answers. But I do know that someday (i.e., when you get to my age) you will feel the kind of love that makes you smile at random moments, inspires you to be a better version of yourself, draws you closer to its Author, and you will be glad you waited to walk into this new and unfamiliar yet rich and colorful world with someone you want to experience all its newness with.

If a wrinkle in time does exist and you're given a chance to revisit every single moment of your life and change what you want, don't. Take a seat, grab a bag of popcorn and watch your old self fall flat on her face over and over until she bleeds. The idea of a worry free, heartache-proof, and predictably comfortable life sounds appealing; but where's the fun in that? You can make better choices moving forward, but don't wish to change every bad and ill thought out thing that have already transpired. Let them all happen as they did because they'll take you exactly where you need to be.

Much Love,
J


Let it happen, child.



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