Letters to My Other Selves

December 21 – Future Self. Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead?

Dear Sweet Me:

I don’t have any wise advice to give that I haven’t already given, really.  You warned yourself against your marriage, and you didn’t listen.  I wouldn’t recommend THAT road again, until you’ve begun listening — and I mean really listening — and not to a man, but to yourself.

You told yourself, when you were sixteen precocious years old what you wanted, and what you needed in a partner, and yet you refuse to heed your own advice, so I can’t do a damned thing about anything until you start listening to what your own innocent, just-broken heart was begging for.

People don’t know you love them as you do.  Tell them.  People don’t know you feel the way you feel.  It’s okay to tell them.  You are an advocate for others but have high tolerance for neglecting your own needs, and it’s getting you nowhere but into a place where you feel like you are “failing therapy.”  If that hasn’t changed in five years, then you really have failed therapy.  And no insurance company should be reimbursing you for that kind of performance.

Laugh more.

Love more.

Think before you speak.  And before you write.  And before you do pretty much anything.

And remember how far you have come.

Love,

You

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  1. […] You wrote this same letter last year.  You reflected on it when you got on that stupid train in May, watching the sheep graze in the English countryside. The thing I’ve noticed the most from reading that old letter is that you’re very hard on yourself.  And if you had a nickel for every person who has told you the same, you’d…have an awful lot of nickels. […]

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