Letter to myself

My counselor told me back in December or January to write a letter from myself at that point to myself in May. He wanted me to figure out who I wanted to be by May, write it down, and open it again when that month rolled around. "But," he said. "You can't write it in May--that doesn't count."
The problem though, was that I had no idea who on earth I wanted to be, or even really who I was at that point. It's taken me until now--almost May--to figure out the general things I want out of myself and out of life. Here is my letter:


Dear Georgia,

You have always wanted to be strong for others, you have often been strong when someone needed you, and you are strong. But don't be so strong that you can't be weak. Be willing to let others carry you for a little bit, lean on someone's shoulder and cry. If I've learned anything these past 9 months, it's that crying is good for you. Sarah Kay wrote in her poem "Point B" that "no matter how wide you stretch your fingers your hands will never be big enough to catch all the heartache." And it's true. So let it slip between your outstretched palms and cry it out. Then go for a run, take a hot shower, read a book, and write in your journal. Call up a steady ear or go to coffee with a pair of understanding eyes. Don't hold it all in.

Be independent, but not so solid on your own two feet that you never let anyone in. It's nice to have someone to depend on once in awhile. Just don't be clingy like static-filled sock. No one likes to find a sock stuck to their jeans, shirt, or jacket out of the dryer. So don't be that sock.

Be patient. You will forever face lessons in patience in this life, so you might as well learn quickly. Be kind. A little kindness never hurt anyone. Be hopeful. There will be a dawn, a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how dark it gets. Be honest. No one likes a liar, and no one likes being jerked around. Be hard-working. Your own sweat and ideas will pay off, and nothing feels better than knowing you did that with your own two hands.

Be full of love. This world will knock you down again and again until you're hopeless and coughing up blood. You will want to close yourself off time and again, but don't you dare. Don't you dare lose hope; don't you dare lose faith; don't you dare lose love. Because love will come around and brush you off, rooting for you; love is in your corner.

Be the ear that listens, the hands that hold, the arms that hug, the legs that would walk the earth, and the eyes that understand. Speak only when you need to and choose your words wisely.

Never underestimate the power of silence. Silence with yourself gives you time to think; silence with another gives you space to appreciate; silence with God lets you hear (or maybe grow cold, depending on the kind of silence); space after a fight gives you time to clear your mind before apologizing (always apologize)--but if you're silent too long you could make yourself seem uncaring. Silence is good and bad. Don't be afraid of it, but don't abuse it.

Be confident. As long as you have confidence in your closet, you can pull almost anything off. Never be the doormat. Stand up for what you believe. Be the voice for those that can't speak. Always treat people as you would want to be treated.

Don't get stuck in your ways; get used to change--it's always occurring. Be willing to learn. Always look at the world with the wonder of a child and the wisdom of an adult.

Create, create, create. Always take time to read. Never forget to tell people you love them. Take advantage of the moments you have, because you never know when you'll run out of time.

Fill your lungs with air, your heart with love, your mind with ideas, and step foot into the world. Be brave, be solid, be willing to ask for help. Forgive, always.

Never forget who you are. Never be someone you aren't.

Love,
Georgia