I wrote this letter to myself a year ago. I’d completely forgotten it in an old mostly used up spiral notebook that still has notes in it from high school. I came across it a few days ago and it left me breathless and bolstered. If you need a little bolstering, this is for you, too.
Oh, Hey Love.
A year from now you won’t recognize yourself. This year will be one of wild unencumberment. You are going to let go of so many things you never knew you didn’t need. You will learn how to stop praying and worry will disappear from your life. You will learn that you don’t need many material things to be happy. You just need people where mutual love is deep. You will let go of the god you have always known and dive into the deep unknown. You will learn how to stop treading water, float, and trust whatever current is carrying you. Because that which is beautiful is often trustworthy.
You will let go of your dreams for marriage and family and learn things about your own sexuality that make your whole life make sense. Don’t fight it. You know how fluid these dreams can be. Even if they leave, they may one day come back to you reimagined in beauty that takes your breath away.
You will watch your plans vanish and it will be the most freeing feeling. For the first time in your life you believe that you can go anywhere and do anything. You are surrounded by people who believe in you. They will make you know that you are worthy. Their love will give you wings to pursue your wildest dreams.
You will lose your hair. Not from stress this time. By choice, taken into your own hands and removed bit by bit. It will be a slow letting go of who you used to be and the dreams you used to have. Others will help you celebrate this transformation. In the absence of your lifelong security blanket you will grow secure in the fact that you are loved for who you are, not for any outward feature.
You will let go of your home, of the city you once called your own. You will know that the place that sheltered you for a time has edged you out of the nest. It will never feel the same again and you wouldn’t want it to. You’ve outgrown Baton Rouge, and it’s okay.
You will learn how to stand on your own but also how to reach out for help when you need it. You will need help. It’s okay. Reach your hand forward. But also reach it back and to either side for those friends who will need your support as much as you need theirs.
This year will be one of as many heartaches as triumphs, often precipitated by the same events. Lean in. Find the joy. Because it’s there. In abundant measures that will propel you forward.
You will become so much more yourself. And baby, you will shine.