a letter to the little girl lost

Dear me, 

You are sixteen. 

You are invincible.

Seemingly you are against the world and you stand eight feet tall.

But can I let you in on a little secret?

You really are only 5'1 and a half and you are only sixteen. A child, even if you believe otherwise.

Can I tell you that what you think you know now will phase out and that the world you believe in is just a dab of what is in store for you? 

The boy you are seeing isn't the one you swear you are going to marry. Stop crying over him and know that one day he'll break your heart, over and over again. 

The experiences you are going through isn't what shapes you. 

That your friends will not always be there through thick and thin. 

And the friends you hold onto and promise to grow up with are not the ones who will be by your side when you give birth to your first child. 

Your parents are not the enemies as you believe they are. 

That sneaking out makes your mothers heart palpitate in ways you could never imagine until you yourself become a mother. 

Would you believe me if I told you that one day you will find comfort in the walls of their own home, have a glass of wine with them once in a while, and that sometimes you'd rather hang out with them instead of a night in the club. 

That one day you will realise that your biggest bully and critic was actually yourself.

Yes, one day you will understand that blaming others for the depth of your insecurities was nothing more that your own despair for acceptance. You don't want to die like you think you do and your self worth is more than that you believe it to be. 

That your curves will make you the woman you are, that your dark hair and olive skin will one day be called exotic, that the perfection of beauty will never be as important as you believe it to be.

That one day a man will fall in love with your little legs that you hate, your thunder thighs that you always cover up, your love handles that you despise, and one day the man that you marry will believe you are the most beautiful girl he's ever laid eyes on. 

Can I share another secret? 

You don't know it all.

You really don't. You got to stop thinking you do.

And you know, one day you will miss your teenage years and wish that time didn't move so fast. So please stop wishing the time away, it really does go faster the older you get.  

Oh, and those baggy jeans and black lipstick you sport? Yeah, that phases out too. Believe me, it wasn't very attractive.

You are sixteen, darling.

If only you knew then, what you know now.

always, 

me {your thirty two year old self}

for Blogging from the Heart