Note to (High School) Self

Dear 9th Grade Self,

I hate to break it to you, but the next four years will not be your best. They might be some of your worst. You will mistreat your body to "look the part" and attempt to hold onto friendships. You will wear lots of masks to feel comfortable showing up in relationships. Schoolwork will be your best friend and your most valuable numbing device. You'll feel like you live in the shadow of your little brother. There will be moments of loneliness, your character will be called into question, and you will most definitely disappoint yourself and others.

But you know what? You WILL rise strong and eventually forgive yourself. You will celebrate others' gifts as opposed to feeling threatened. You will look back and find the joy, laugher, and lightness that broke up a cloudy time.

.

.

.

It is pretty funny that I am writing this blog post considering that I had already written a letter to myself during my first year of high school that I would later read at my Senior Retreat. All it said was, "Lilly, you better get a 4.0."

Yep, my all work no play high school self in a nutshell. Needless to say, I am making up for lost time in the ~reflective~ department.

The thing is, I really thought I had it all figured out - that I had conquered my ED, developed a healthier relationship with my studies and would enter college as my most authentic and confident self. I wanted to forget high school as soon as possible and present a shiny new version of myself where the people didn't know my "embarrassing" history as the uptight girl (with the "perfect brother") who never really found her place.

An important lesson I learned is that it is impossible to run from who we are. To put it simply, what we don't own up to controls us. I spent so much time trying to paint over my colorful past with nude, only to fail again and again.

It wasn't until I shed the "not enough girl" identity and took a good hard look at myself that I realized people would love and value my true colors. I love my true colors.

This is just my humble opinion, but I think we can all benefit from identifying when we have ever felt small and, rather than running, use that information to better understand ourselves.

We can get back to our authentic selves by taking inventory of our wounds and tending to them as opposed to rubbing some dirt in it.

.

.

.

To all my peeps who most definitely did not peak in high school, college, or are maybe still in a rough spot - this is my love letter to YOU. I am nowhere near peaking and I don't think I ever want to. Maybe all we can do is trust that each chapter, we get closer and closer to coming home to ourselves.

As I have said time and time again on this blog - perfection is boring, embarrassment makes things interesting, and there is strength in the struggle. Here's to living messy, cheers.