Dear Hails,
You always wanted a nickname – cool and vibrant and it didn’t come from anyone in the waking realms. This one came from someone in a dream you have a few years down the line. I’m writing to you, my thirteen year old self as (get this) a 23 year old, single, chronically ill and still living at home, messy… Yet somehow the most honest version of us. I have a few things to say to you. But the first and most important thing is I love you, and you’re beautiful just the way you are. You’re eyes are stunning and you’ll see that soon.
I want you to savor that last summer the one where, yes our health is declining but we’re still in the pool every day. That last Christmas with the trees and all the decorations. The church, laying on the stage and feeling the concrete under our bodies, walking in the rain with her. Savor the family dinners, the moments together – the small things that seemed so natural. Before the fracture. Before the shatter. I want you to hold Bobo tight and rough house with him as much as possible, cuddle with Bug, sink into the “catpiles”. Don’t take our grades for granted.
When the boy says he likes your personality believe him. Bask in the innocence, don’t rush for things to change so quickly because before you know it you’re starting your blog. She’s gone, the fracture is more than a fracture it’s becoming a web. You’re begging for the dream to walk out and touch your hand and he keeps telling you “You can do this without me, you’re strong enough”. You keep denying it yet somehow you’re more and more alone by the second.
At seventeen it’s just a kiss but it’s not. At nineteen it’s just your boyfriend spending the night but it’s not… I need you to know your body is YOURS not theirs. It’s yours.
That older boy/guy or girl who says “you’re so mature for your age” they’re lying. You aren’t. I hate to break it to you darling – you were just a kid. And abuse doesn’t look the way you were programmed to see it. If it feels off, it twists your stomach that isn’t anxiety that’s a warning.
I wish I could have known these things. I wish I knew at thirteen that she wasn’t my responsibility. Her aches, her pains, her loves, her loses. I wish I could change those things and make your teenage years a little easier. Make it not your responsibility everything that happened and happens. I wish I would have stood up for us more. I wish I would have fought back. I know those thoughts run through your heart and mind because they still run through mine at twenty three. We’re one right?
Look, you did what you knew how to do. You were a kid. Ignorance is bliss. Especially when it comes to family stuff. Those rose colored glasses really love to stay. Fractures become shatters though. Ducktape isn’t enough.
At the end of the day we’re still here. We didn’t think we’d make it to 20. As a child we had our whole life planned, at thirteen that plan flipped upsidedown, and twenty three we’re rebuilding that plan. The best part of all of that? We are building our own legacy, our own story. One that as the great Taylor Swift once said “is defined by the things we love not the things we hate”. Because we can build a better future without draining our soul.
Sometimes to do that means you gotta burn a few bridges along the way. I know you learned that the hard way.
One last thing and then I’ll leave this to the abyss or two I suppose because I wasn’t quite sure where to fit them in. When it comes to our pets always trust your gut, which you always have and savor every moment with Bo and Jonah. Which you did. Never let anyone take the identity of who they are and were to you away. It’s not about what human picked the animals but rather which animal picked which human. Don’t let it get under you’re skin…
And finally your health? It doesn’t define if you’re worthy of love or nice things or friendship. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Just because you’re chronically ill doesn’t mean you have to settle for less than what you deserve. Emotional connection, validation, truth, honesty, loyalty, all those things and more. You bring so much more to the table than just your body or monitory value. And to love someone truly and deeply is a valuable thing. You deserve to be loved as much as you love someone else.
To live for the hope of it all –
23 year old you.
P.s. to fourteen/fifteen year old me, I still believe in him. It wasn’t just a phase and I still dream of him. So I guess we’re both certifiable…
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