vulnerable, volatile, vibrant

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18, college, Personal

15:12 February 20, 2017 – Monday

“Dear me,

Not “Dear younger me,” or “Dear older me”— just Dear me. Right-now me. You are under a lot of pressure— whether it’s self-inflicted or not— it’s hard to tell anymore. 

You get mad at yourself for the smallest things, whether you like to or even choose to admit it or not. 

You so often forget that you’re beautiful. 

You’re terrified of growing up— you had to call the doctor yesterday for a prescription and you were texting your mom the whole time about how much you hated it and all you wanted was to be at home in your hometown— picking up pads from the Walgreen’s on Lone Tree Way and going to your regular doctor that’s only 10 minutes away from your house. 

You feel stuck between a rock and a hard place and you feel like you’re pinning yourself in from all sides. 

You forget that beauty is not physical and it is not quantified or qualified by anyone other than yourself. 

You feel unsatisfied a lot more often than before— you feel like since you’re in a place where you have more, you should feel fuller. 

But, dear me, you’re forgetting that this is hard and it’s supposed to be hard and it’s hard for everyone else, too. Being a human, especially one with a mind as loud as yours, is no easy task, but, of all the things you tend to forget, the one thing you MUST remember is that it is worth it. It is so worth you crying at your desk and writing this; it is so worth the days you feel numb and passionless; it is worth texting your mom every day; it is worth feeling scared; it is worth all of your heartache. 

Dear me, you know every moment of sunlight, joy, laughter, closeness, introspection fills you with light. 

You know that you love your life, the life that you’ve lived, the life you have built for yourself. 

When did you start thinking of fulfilment only in the future tense? 

When did you start thinking of yourself, thinking of bliss, in the past-tense? 

You have so much love in you. 

Don’t forget it. Pull it out, don’t save it for a rainy day; keep it on your sleeve at all times. Your love is your armour, it is your sword, it is your pair of night vision goggles that gives you the strength and the courage and the safety to navigate a body, a life, an expectation, an ambition that you are still scared of. That you still feel too young and too small to conquer. That makes you feel weak, hapless, and helpless. 

You don’t need to find the “old Izzy.” Who you were and who you will be is who you are. Time doesn’t have to be linear! You, you, you, are you are you are you! All of the bad and the good. It’s all beautiful! You forget that not everyone has to like you. You forget that not everyone has to agree with you. You forget that not everyone has to validate you. This is all how living and being works. You are learning so much everyday— whether it is about physics or chemistry, I don’t know, but you are growing. You feel like you’re growing smaller, growing into yourself, but you’re not. You’re simply finding yourself standing among redwood trees for the first time and it’s scary. But they all started somewhere. And whether you grow big and tall enough to be one of them— who cares? You’ve never stumbled upon a flower or a tree that you didn’t like. 

Have faith that 

you are. 

You are _______.

Alive, breathing, passionate, loving, worth loving,

three-dimensional, 

complex, 

beating, swelling, churning, growing, moving, 

crying, laughing, appreciative, grateful, healthy, 

trying, strong, capable, a-work-in-progress, 

vulnerable, volatile, vibrant, 

woman, 

human-being. 

You are not perfect. You fail often. You are terrified, You are paralysed by the concept of limitless possibilities. You feel foolish. You feel small. You feel like you’re doing it wrong. You feel stuck or trapped. You feel things. It is okay. You are okay.

Dear me, you are full of love— both for yourself and for the universe around you.

Dear me, why do you forget this?

Dear me, you share your atoms with stars and nebulae— you couldn’t “not matter” even if you wanted to.

Dear me, and even if you “didn’t matter,” who would then?

Dear me, look around you.

Dear me, look inside of you.

Dear me, can’t you agree that this life is beautiful?

Dear me,

                        Take care of yourself.

                                              I love you.

— Love,

                 you”

          “vulnerable, volatile, vibrant”

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