MY DEAREST SELF…

Friends are the worst. They ask you to do things that will move you past the gunk that holds you back from forward progress. They ask you to participate in something that opens your eyes to the possibility that your soul may be closed for business unintentionally or that your inner voice isn't connecting with your real-world message. Maybe you've been blocking things longer than you could fathom or built a wall more impermeable than ever imagined. Either way, you've been challenged to do the work of unearthing that bright-eyed girl with the untapped potential and big, blinding dreams.

Here's to being in 'the work' — and the squirrely friends.

A LETTER TO MYSELF —

My Dearest Darling Girl,

I hear you. I see you with all the clarity one soul can have for another. I witness you observing your surrounding fearfully, hopeful that you will be the one chosen this time. I look upon you, knowing you are feeling uncertainty at this moment — anticipating rejection or, worse yet, experiencing another moment of invisibility.

My heart aches for you. My heart aches that I can't hold you in my arms, look into your face and tell you how truly magnificent I believe you to be, regardless of you not being like the ones you want to emulate.

The fact that you have your own drum to march to is something to be nurtured, cultivated, and cherished all the days of your life.

You should never have felt one moment of darkness when people ask you to quiet down, play small, or not shine too bright.

I cry that you've lost your authentic voice because you were asked not to speak time after time, to keep your opinion to yourself, or not share too much. I cry that you've lost the connection to your soul, lost sight of what makes you soar, and the vision you hold for your life. I cry that the closest you will ever come to these feelings and emotions is when you are thousands of miles away from everything and everyone you've known to sit in places you've never been, surrounded by perfect strangers who hold no judgment and listen when you speak.

I worry that you won't hear my words because you are in a place where I can no longer reach you.

Please, please hear me:

You are the kindest of souls.

Your heart is bigger than big.

You are so smart and clever and brave.

You have a will that is unmatched.

You have a sparkle that is both beautiful and blinding.

You have a voice — a good, strong, healthy, bright, articulate voice that will be heard by the people who genuinely value your existence.

I need you to trust that I love you. I am proud of how you choose to grow into adulthood. I am proud of the work you will continually put into yourself that most will not — and even more so of the awareness and opportunities you will give your children.

Trust that big things are coming your way, my little love. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, hold your head high, and never stop being true to yourself until your very last breath.



— The Essentialyst