Dear you,
I think you know who this is. Deep down, I know you know.
You’ve caught the scent of me before. On those good mornings. In the middle of a moment of unbidden excitement. When you find yourself leaning, just for a second, towards the more fun choice.
That flicker of “oh, there I am”.
That was me. That’s always been me.
I’m you, further along. I’m not a fantasy, and not a better model you have to earn with enough discipline and green juice. Just you, with all the flinching finished.
So let me tell you the thing I’ve come to say — and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me:
Don’t worry. It all works out.
I’m saying that, not because I’m trying to make you feel better, but because I know you. I know what you’re made of, and I have never once been frightened for you.
You get through. Getting through is what you do.
So, you can put some of the weight down now. Let your shoulders drop an inch. You never have to do this alone again. You can hear me now, and I can assure you, it’s all unfolding, more beautifully than you can imagine from where you’re standing.
And notice: I came to you. You didn’t have to be ready, or earn it, or come looking. I was already here, keeping the fire burning.
And here’s the lovely part. Now you’ve heard from me, you can’t unhear it. The cat’s out of the bag. Good. That’s the point.
You know there’s a version of you who isn’t afraid, and that knowing stays with you. I know why you’ve sometimes made the small, shrinking choices. Most of them were kind. You just won’t need to do that so much now.
I won’t flatter you and I won’t fix you. There’s nothing to fix. I’ll just keep writing and cheering you on. You can leave these letters in a drawer. You can pretend you didn’t read them. I’ll still be here.
I’m not out there in your someday. I’m as close as your own next breath.
Come on, my love. You know where we’re going.
