Nobody Puts Baby [Sarah] in the Corner

Hi, friends. Since my last post I’ve had several people reach out to me. They reached out to check-in on me. They reached out to tell me their own stories of suicidal ideation. They reached out. Over the last couple of weeks I have felt supported by people both close to me and people that I don’t know very well. It is amazing how much this keeps me going. It reminds me how special this blog is to me. Please keep reaching out, even if it isn’t to me. Just check-in on your friends, you never know how much someone might need it.

This morning riding the subway there was a person. They were wearing pants on their head and screaming at the top of their lungs. The passengers on the train gave them weird looks, heck I probably gave them weird looks. Some people would enter the train car and immediately hop back off, like “not today, Satan.” All I could think for that 15 minute ride was ‘where were they going? Did they have people that would reach out to them? How different would the world look if we took care of each other instead of feared one another?’ Don’t get me wrong… I am guilty of the fear. The fear that drives my internal system and tells me people are bad. It is that baby Sarah voice that takes over. It’s a really cute voice with a bit of a speech impediment and she is not very nice.

I’ve actually been spending a lot of time thinking about baby Sarah as I move forward from my recent heart break; the role she plays in my daily life, her goals and dreams, and how they are both similar and vastly different from the person I am now. I think it is important to think of our inner child often, as they are typically the drivers of our natural instincts. Baby Sarah is a peace keeper. She always wants to make things right, even when it wasn’t her fault that things went wrong. This makes sense to me, then, that as an adult I cling. I cling to the hope that I can fix just about anything with a nice smile and a quiet voice. What magic it would be if we could simply smile and cure pain and suffering. If it were that easy, I would have fixed a lot of problems ‘cuz, to quote my many dates, [I have a great smile].

Which reminds me, in the last few week I have been on many dates. Talk about the inner child, whew. I find it fascinating the way humans behave within the first few moments of meeting. There are so many things people are willing to disclose; so many things that aren’t being said at all. Dating is mystery, excitement, and inevitable choice: Do I kiss them? Do I ghost them? Do I see them again? Do I runaway to Europe? Sometimes it feels like I am the one wearing pants on my head. Sometimes I want to be the one screaming at the top of my lungs on the subway car. With that being said, to my surprise, dating is going really well. I’ve met some really awesome people and I am feeling more hopeful about finding a partner that is kind, honest, and holds me in a safe space and I do the same for them.

In fact, baby Sarah shows up a lot on my dates. She thinks about her future and the family she one day wants to have. She also gets really, really scared. I am trying very hard to both listen and understand this part of myself while challenging it as well. From a young age I absorbed messaging that I was not good enough. I don’t think this was the message that I was supposed to receive, but this is how my kiddo brain interpreted things then. I think the point was to protect myself, but I just ended up hurting myself. I became the victim of my own life and I set out on a self-fulfilling prophecy to ensure I would continue to play out these patterns that remind me I am not good enough. This is where I have to challenge this girl because… I AM GOOD ENOUGH. I deserve happiness, love, and to follow my dreams. I actually just got done with therapy and surprise, surprise baby Sarah was the star of the show. She kept coming up over the hour and a half. My therapist also mentioned the protecting she does for me. The protection of leaving my body, the security of giving trust to those that I shouldn’t, the safety of providing ‘soft no’s’ all in hopes to avoid pain and hurt. She is my keeper after all; however, I am also on the right track with this whole pushing back thing. While these patterns provide a sense of safety they are in fact hindering my ability to live a happy life. Instead, I currently live in a constant state of fear. How exhausting…

My assignment given to me for the week is to A. Find moments I disassociate (leave my body) B. Find the places where I feel safe and happy and C. Establish more consistency. After leaving the session 20 minutes ago I have left my body twice and I have felt safe and happy once. Sitting here, writing this blog, listening to two girls watch a stand-up comedian and laughing so hard the one blew soup out of her nose, I feel safe. I feel happy. I’ve always struggled to do this for myself. To put my happiness above other things. I tend to come in second to the rest of the world. I preach self-love and then shove baby [Sarah] in the corner. I’m over it. I’m over the soft no’s and the quiet complacency. I want to say YES when things feel good. I want to demand people hear my NO when I say ‘NO’. I want to stand up for myself and not feel concerned about how people might react to that. I will be stronger, every day, continually growing into the person baby Sarah could only be proud of. So, I would like to give you all an assignment as well. Think of baby *insert name here*. How are they serving you? Would they proud of the person you are now? Is there anything you can do in this moment to make them smile? Maybe, just maybe, you have 5 minutes to devote to this reflection.

And on that note, I would like to end today’s post with a poem written by Rupi Kaur, whose words have been a guiding source in my healing and growth over the last few years:

it was when I stopped searching for home within others

and lifted the foundations of home within myself

i found there were no roots more intimate

than those between a mind and body

that have decided to be whole

-rupi kaur

Breaking the Cycle

Writing right now is hard for me. I’ve put it off for so long because I don’t know where to start. I have gotten multiple requests from people for a new blog post. When I hear these requests, a little voice in my head screams “I CAN’T DO IT, OKAY?” This voice sounds off about 50 times a day. Gotta, go brush my teeth: “I CAN’T DO IT, OKAY?” These dishes are really piling up: “I CAN’T DO IT, OKAY?” I’m sure you get the point and the point is that life is hard sometimes.

And you know what? We all go through hard times. Humans, animals, aliens, plants, the atmosphere… We all struggle and we all continue to go about as best we can. I find that quite beautiful. So, today I woke up and I thought about how today was the day that I get back to it. That I take my struggle and I put it out there for the world to connect with and that maybe, just maybe, we can recognize that we’re all in this together. *Cue High School Musical cast*

So, I guess I’ll start from where I last left off, with my anger. My anger was a refreshing journey for me. An emotion that I bottle up so often, was finally sent pouring out of me and for that I am grateful. My anger, since my last post, officially morphed into depression. I traded Megadeth for Adele.  (Yes, I had to google angry band names). Good, faithful depression. Now, that, as you all know, is my comfort zone. The ebb and flow of “I’m not good enough. I deserve this. I will never find love…” I welcomed it with open arms. I hugged the negative thoughts of myself like long lost friends and told them to never leave.

Of course, I didn’t mean this, I just feel safe in an abusive relationship with myself because that is what I know. I went to school for social work and I know the cycle of abuse like the back of my hand, but this was the first time I applied it to myself. I was playing out my own cycle of abuse. 1. Tensions build: Getting out of bed is hard. I am scared. I don’t recognize myself.  2. Incident: I start to criticize myself. Everything I have done lead me to this mistake. How can I be so stupid? I am not good enough. I deserve this. I will never find love. 3: Reconciliation: I write a blog post about how I have been mean and how I have to forgive myself. I say I am sorry for the way I have treated myself. I vow to be better. 4: Calm: The “honeymoon” phase. I am a body-positive queen, who loves who she is. Look out world. *Repeats cycle, over and over and over again*

So, this time I had to do something different. This time I wasn’t going to just let me get away with a promise of a new me, so I can end up in the same position I have found myself in. I started therapy. Like really started therapy. Like no holds barred, let everything out therapy. I tried therapy in the past, but most often I lied out of my teeth. Why did I lie? Because the truth was scary. The first time I went to therapy was because of a boy that took advantage of me. I couldn’t say that though, that was scary. So I said I was sad and of course it didn’t work and I moved on, back through my own cycle. Another time I went to therapy I said that I was binge eating.. which I was, but I didn’t say why. I didn’t say eating was the only time I felt like being alive. Instead I said I just eat too much and I would like not to. Another time I went to therapy, I was like yeah, I’m sad and stuff and I drink too much, but I am in college and this is normal, right? All of these times I went for a total of 3 sessions. 3 sessions until I hit my honeymoon phase and made everyone believe I was good.

This is not how I am doing it this time. This time I’ve already noticed a difference in the way I interact with my therapist. Actually, since I live in a small island in Alaska I am essentially doing Skype therapy. I video conference with her once per week and I am happy to report that I LOVE IT. I get to have therapy from the comfort of my own couch, with my coffee in my hand and a screen between us, which feels way less invasive. I am honestly surprised at how comfortable it feels to do therapy this way. I have already opened up so much, like truthfully opened up, and I’ve noticed immediate changes in my mood. It feels really powerful to tell the truth… the whole truth and nothing but the truth, A[wo]men.

That’s how I am going to break the cycle. That’s how people across the world are breaking the cycle. They are standing up and saying “me too.” Because we are all just humans, trying to find a semblance of peace, and we can’t do that without recognizing our likeness. This is not to say that our differences aren’t powerful, because they are, but it is more to say that together, hand in hand, our fight becomes much easier.

I would like to end this post with honoring of our veterans, who fought side by side. It is their bravery and ability to fight together that shows us we don’t win a war alone; we win a war by standing together.

P.S. the other difference is that I have Ariana Grande’s “Thank u, next” on repeat, which is basically like free therapy post break-up. “I’m so f****in’ grateful for my ex.”

My Longest Relationship

As one of my favorite days approaches, I would like to breach the topic of love with y’all. Now, I hope I haven’t lost half my audience already because sometimes just the notion of love makes people want to vomit. I get it, trust me, I do. Fun fact though, love isn’t only made for people in romantic relationships. I have been single for most of my life and I have found head over heels love in a lot of different ways. I have friendships that make me want to scream from a mountain top. I have the love of my family… and that love is so unconditional I could steal all their clothes and they would still love me. I could literally go on and on about the love I have outside of a romantic relationship, but the one I really want to discuss today is the love I have for myself.

TBH, Valentine’s Day was not always one of my favorite days. In fact, in high school I used to make sure I wore black. I had to mourn the fact that I was, yet again, all alone. No one was buying me flowers. It was that ‘none for Gretchen Wieners’ rage I would feel. “Why don’t boys like me?” I would cry, as Dashboard Confessional sang ballads of heart break into my ear. Did I mention I was an emo kid in high school? Maybe boys did like me in high school. I would never know though, because I was too busy hating myself to ever notice. And of course, I was pining for the boy I would never actually want to love me. The cool kid, on the football team, who was a bully. This became a cycle in my life. Falling for the wrong boys. Wishing that they would love me back, when they were monsters and I should have wanted nothing to do with them.

My early 20’s became a mad hunt for boys. I was running out of time. Not sure where I was getting my time table, but I felt far behind. I would search for the wrong love, mostly because it was the most convenient love. Any boys that would listen. Usually it was boys at the bar and usually they weren’t really listening. They would listen just enough to make me think that maybe it could go somewhere. Surprise! It never went very far. I would literally take a puzzle piece that was the complete wrong shape and try to make it fit. “Well, they hate the type of music I am into and they mock my Poli. Sci. major… but he seems like a good guy.” How low I had the bar back then. ‘He seems like a good guy’ now sounds like the title to a horror movie I should produce.

Then BAM! I turn 25 and something happens. I don’t know if it was my move to NYC, the fact that I was halfway to 30, or knowing that Hillary Clinton was running for president, but something in me changed. For the first time in my life, I looked in the mirror and I thought about how excited I was to see where my life goes. MY life. I wasn’t thinking about my life as it related to finding a boyfriend. I was picturing me as a social worker, me as a representative of the United States, me as a mother, me as someone who has paid off their credit card. Everything before that moment was me getting by until the moment I found a boyfriend. I hated myself. HATED. I thought that if I found someone to tell me I was beautiful, then it would be true. Of course, I had my friends telling me every day that I was beautiful, but it didn’t count because they weren’t men. It didn’t look like the love I saw in movies.

However, the biggest thing that was missing prior to my 25^th birthday light bulb was me loving myself. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. The only person that I am truly in a relationship with for the rest of my life is me. I am with me until the day I day. It sounds corny and stupid. I get it. I’ve talked to many people that believe self-love is bullshit. Maybe I am wrong. I did spend 25 years believing my happiness was hidden in some guy, so it’s fair. But coming to the realization that I was not going anywhere really made me want to try to love myself. Sure, some days are harder than others. I won’t sit here and pretend that I never think about finding a partner or that I never call myself ugly. I have those days more than I would care to admit. The difference now is that it’s not all I know.

I know that I want a partner. Someone who fits the puzzle piece without destroying my shape. And I know that for every day I feel ugly, I make myself look in the mirror and say one nice thing about myself. These shifts alone have made a world of difference for me. And of course, the use of self-care. I know self-care sounds like a fad currently, but to me self-care is telling yourself you love you in even the smallest ways possible. Therefore, Valentine’s Day has become one of my favorite days. I am essentially dating myself. Since the age of 25, I have taken myself out on a date every Valentines Day.  At 25, I got myself a massage. At 26, I treated myself to some float therapy. At 27, I am starting a self-esteem group at the local high school. This is my favorite gift yet.

This Valentines Day, I dare you to date yourself and see how it feels. You may just fall in love with that person.

From WI to AK, With Love

Hello! I would like to start off by congratulating all of you for making it to 2018 because I know some of you had your doubts that 2017 would ever end. Look at us thriving here in the new year. Pat yourself on the back today, if for nothing else, but making it through another year. You go Glenn Coco.

This week I would like to address something that I have been asked about a lot and I think I am ready to process it all: What is the move to Craig, Alaska really like? And I must say when moving here, there was not a whole lot of information on the subject, so maybe this will help someone out in the future.

First of all, I want to say that my move is unique to my own situation and I have heard some horror stories about moving here and I have heard of some really lovely alternative ways to get here, so please keep this in mind. Moving here for me was probably a bit simpler because A: I am as single as a single person can be. Meaning, I have no pets, no children, no plants. The only thing I had to keep alive was me. That makes moving a whole heck of a lot easier. B: I was moving out of my parents house, where virtually nothing belonged to me. Therefore, I didn’t have to travel with furniture. These two things are crucial to my story.

Now, with all that being said… I also want to point out that I am a planner. I am impulsive, yes, but an impulsive planner. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but I swear it makes sense to me and to everyone that knows me. When it came to my move to Alaska, I had hotels booked, my route mapped out, and my schedule on point. Now, the thing about being an impulsive planner is that the plan often goes to shit, because I am typically planning like 4 hours before I have to leave. Oddly enough, it worked this time.

If I had to recommend one thing to people moving here, it is that the less you own the better. Especially if you are moving from a place where you have to drive more than 3 hours to the ferry. PURGE EARLY AND PURGE OFTEN. Of course, this is just my motto for any move, but most important for a move where you have to take multiple modes of transportation. Moving to an island is a whole new ball game, my friends. Let me just lay this out for you.

As most moves go, there is a lot to do before you even leave. For instance, finding a place to live. Now, typically this is a bit easier with sites like apartmentfinder.com, but that does not exist on the island of Prince of Wales. Apartment finding is done by WOM aka word of mouth aka my high school advertising professor’s favorite word. WOM is really hard when you don’t live in the place to even speak to anyone. Luckily the place that hired me was all over it. They sent me some options and low and behold I am in one of my favorite apartments I have ever rented. Now, this sounds like it was a nice simple choice for me, but if you ask my family and friends I struggled for a way too long before I chose this place. See, the other thing about Prince of Wales is that because it is a tourist area there are actually a lot of places that are furnished. The idea of furnished apartment scared the shit out of me. I don’t know why, but it really did. Like what if I hate the furniture? Except, it was the greatest decision I had ever made. How the hell I thought I was going to get furniture to this island is beyond me. That was definitely my pre-move struggle. Now, I highly recommend furnished apartments to everyone. It makes moving so, so much easier. Once that was settled, I was on my way to a new life.

I started my journey with a 16 hour drive from Grafton, WI to Miles City, MO. At 2am I woke up wide-eyed and bushy-tailed for my journey to my new home. The car was pre-loaded the evening prior thanks to my fam. Of course, copious amounts of coffee and Swedish fish were in tow as well. Which reminds me, if you are moving to an island in Alaska, I beg of you to actually just forget everything you own and stack your car with dry goods and toiletries. A BOX OF CEREAL IS $7. This is important, v. important. I, however, felt stupid sentimental ties to things like my clothes and pictures of my loved ones, like a goddamn idiot. I was a fool. Obvi, I am slightly joking, but really I wish I would have brought like 10x’s the amount of dangerously cheap things from Wisconsin. Mistakes were made, and now I am literally paying for it. I digress, my drive to Montana was oddly okay. I hit one traffic jam in Minnesota and then it was smooth sailing from there. So, to recap day one was Wisco, to Minnesota, to North Dakota, to Montana. I am getting tired just writing it. My other piece of advice is to bring a buddy. I traveled alone and when I saw cool things, I only had my Swedish fish to tell. They appreciated it though, I could tell from their smiles. As day 1 came to a close, I feasted on McDonalds, as one traveling does, and then went swimming. Another important piece of advice! Always pick a hotel with a pool. I felt like a new woman after that swim.

I planned my trip with the notion that each day I would lose more and more energy, so I made day 1 the longest trip with day 2 shortening to a 10 hour drive and day 3 to a 6 hour drive. Bless my smart little heart because that was the best darn planning I have ever done. Day 2 and 3 now feel like a blur. There was Montana to Idaho to Washington. I remember driving through some mountains and seeing some bison. I also remember more swimming, but that is about it. My head was just racing because I knew the next leg of the trip involved a ferry. And not just any old ferry, but a three day ferry from Bellingham, WA to Ketchikan, AK. Yes, you read that correctly. This three day ferry didn’t even bring me to my final destination. To my surprise though, the ferry was SO cool though. I just drove my car onto the boat and didn’t really have to worry about much else for three days. I will say that there is zero reception on this ferry, so pre-downloading episodes on Netflix will save a life. Pass it on.

After arriving to Ketchikan, I then had to take another ferry! Luckily, this one was only three hours. Unfortunately, I arrived at 7am and my next ferry didn’t leave until 2pm. So, I did what any sane person would do… I shopped at Wal-Mart for several hours and bought shit I definitely didn’t need out of pure boredom and exhaustion. Then I finally got onto my next ferry, which seemed surprisingly fast and made it the island! Now, at this point it is pitch black on an island I am not familiar with and it is raining. I thought my guts were going to fall out of my butt. That was when it truly hit me… I moved to fucking Alaska. That’s right, my move did not hit me until I was actually off the ferry. Everything before that felt like some odd vacation I was taking alone.

Now that I have been here for a whole month, that whole journey seems like a distant dream. Adjusting to life in Craig has been fairly easy. Don’t get me wrong, I have cried and questioned my impulsive decision at times, but not nearly as much as I anticipated. Maybe it is the island pace or the kind souls I work with or the fact that the view out of my window looks like a landscape artist drew it? Whatever the reason, I am grateful for it.

Onto the real dirt though because I know y’all just want to know about what I hate about being here. I hate the time difference because calling people is a scheduling nightmare. My east coast friends are a 4 hour difference and with my work schedule it doesn’t leave much room to chat. The vegetarian imitation meats are sub-par, but I was spoiled in NYC. I could order vegetarian chicken from pretty much anywhere and expect it to be good. It rains a lot here, which some people might hate, but I actually quite enjoy. There are also like a very limited amount of restaurants, and by that I mean like two pizza places and a diner. For that, however, I am grateful. I’m pretty sure half of my student loans went to GrubHub in NYC. I also am still terrified of the potential to run into bears regardless of what everyone keeps telling me. Finally, I hate living alone. I know I am freak, but I like having a roommate. I like someone to be all up in my business.

So, there you have it! My journey to and my life in Craig. Of course, it has only been a month and I am sure many more discoveries about the island are to come. I’ve barely begun to explore this beautiful place I currently call home. If you would like to follow this journey further find me on insta: sarahlorrainerobinson Now that I think about it, it’s like a picture book version of my blog. Excellent.

Sitting with it all

It’s another week, another eve, another day, another dollar. Wait, what? Sorry, sometimes I get on a roll and things just come out. You know, as we come to the end of 2017 I hear a lot of people cursing this shitty year, and I get it. People, do I get it.  However, with all the cursing going on, I have to say “pardon your language, my friends.” 2017 sucked, sure, but it also rocked.

I often tell my clients that the human mind is a peculiar thing. We can hold many feelings at the same time and we often believe we have to choose one over the other because that seems logical; however, we can sit with them all at the same time and in fact, we often do. I recognize this when I think about 2017.  Like how we have a scary president, but I have also seen more activism out of my (self-proclaimed) ‘non-political’ friends. Or how my dream died, and then I just created another.  When I think of 2017, I feel anger, joy, disgust, sadness, and fear. (Yes, I did just name the characters from Inside Out.) And I am sitting with all of those right now as I await 2018. (Which it already is in some places and that blows my mind.)

That reminds me! 2018 is just a number on a calendar. Tomorrow (or right now depending on where you are) the world won’t drastically change. We won’t wake up with racism, sexism, ageism, ableism, and every other ism magically wiped out. Our president will still be our president. I won’t be an internet sensation… yet. And I’ll probably still be watching Harry Potter. That is okay. If no one has told you that, I need you to repeat it with me “It is okay.” Melissa, I can’t hear you, SAY IT LOUDER “IT IS OKAY.” I felt like a drill sergeant there for a minute. Madame, yes madame.  Really though, it is okay. Change is slow and we live in a world where slow means we flip the people off who are slowing us down. We want the magic pill, the high speed internet. Ya can’t though. Sorry, not sorry. That’s actually not how we are meant to live. I’ve seen a lot of people re-sharing that image of the new years resolutions for 2017 and they just do a little of this… 2017 2018. I love that! I know people think it is just a funny meme, but I think it is realistic. Even if you don’t do one thing on your list, you made the list. That means you thought about yourself for even a second and that is important to recognize. If for the the next five years you have the same list, it doesn’t matter. Hell, I had the same list for about 10 years.

This past year though, I finally crushed it! I wanted to run three miles. Check. I wanted to get my masters degree. Check. I wanted to join the Peace Corps and even though I didn’t officially go, I still got in and I count that. Check. I wanted to travel. In 2017, I went to Canada, Florida, the Bahamas, Washington, North Dakota, Minnesota, Washington and a ton more I am forgetting to mention. Check. I moved out, got a job in my field, and can pay my own bills. Check. I realize that a lot of these I got with privilege and a credit card. I also realized that the list doesn’t matter. I could have put the most ridiculous things on that list and weather I accomplished them or not life would go on. The point of the list isn’t to write a cute check mark next to my goals. The point of the list is to remember that there are always things to work towards. That is why I do it every year. *Side note: I really like to point out that I hate the saying “new year, new me” because fuuuckkkk that. I’m still me. I am not going anywhere. The quicker I realized that, the easier my life became. Life is both long and short (try sitting with that) and the only person with you through it all, my dudettes & dudes & non-binary friends, is you.

With that being said, here is my 2018 resolutions list:

• Stop saying sorry so much… unless it is followed by not sorry.
• Jump out of a plane
• Run a marathon
• Climb a mountain
• Go to a new country I’ve never been to
• Read more
• Reach out to people I’ve lost touch with
• Make more friends
• Become internet famous
• But also disconnect more
• Fall in love
• Study for the LSAT
• Have money in my savings account
• Pay off my credit card
• Become an expert at something
• Slow down

Alright that’s enough resolutions for me. I guarantee a lot of these will end up on my 2019 list and I’m cool with that. Like I said, it is okay.  Be more gentle with myself. Check.

P.S.(A.) I hope you all ring in the New Year with much excitement and please for the love of Yeezy, be safe. Don’t drink and drive. I want you all to get a chance to make your lists.

An apology to my younger self

So, I have officially been in Alaska for two weeks and I don’t think it has even hit me yet that this is my home now. When I say the word “home” it brings up many mixed emotions, for a lot of different reasons. My childhood had its ups and downs, as I’m sure most of ours did. (And by childhood, I mean 0-21… I was a late bloomer.)

When I was pondering what I was going to write about this week, I started thinking about that world that I lived in. For those of you that didn’t know me from 0-21, I have many people in my life that will fill you in on my less-than-understanding personality. Now, I know I am the person I am today because of the person I was and I can’t have one without the other. Fine, whatever universe. I get it. Namaste.

Actually though, I hate the word regret because I know that it’s not helpful to dwell on our past mistakes and forget to live in the present. Totally ripped that off from Dumbledore, but my yeezy what an inspiring wizard.

Though, if I had to pick a fav Dumbledore quote it would be: “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.” This is why I blog [and also because I’m super basic & proud of it]. Writing is my journey to healing. I am harder on myself than anyone ever has been or will be. But I want to move on from the pain I have had.

Therefore, this week I will be writing an apology letter to my younger self, so I can write it down, let it go, and move forward:

Dear little Rah,

I use the word little because I know it would mean something to you… because you spend your free time feeling big. I want to apologize for this. I’m sorry I used you’re brain and energy on something that shouldn’t have gotten in your way. I’m currently writing a blog about me and I promised not to talk about the eating disorder, but I needed to briefly mention it to you because you took the brunt of the struggle. I will leave it at that. I am sorry.

I am sorry that you spent your time angry at your family. You wanted so badly to be the families you knew at school. The ones that appeared to have lots of money and pretty things and not as many people. The homes with brand new furniture, a stay at home parent, and the perfect little life. FYI, Hannah Montana was right: “nobody’s perfect, you live and you learn it.” I’m sorry that I didn’t see the energy your family put into making you feel like those kids. All the money they spent on trying to make you feel like you fit in, with dance and cheerleading and trips with school. If I knew how bad they worked, I would have known how loved you were. You would be nowhere without them. Also, you have no idea how much you learned about being thrifty. It is a great life skill.

That includes your sisters, who you continuously pushed away. All they did was love you, and all I did was dream of a life away from everyone. Let me tell you, I caught the travel bug and I did leave, but I also call them all the time because I spend a lot of days missing them. I realized how great everyone in the family is, and luckily not too late. Would you believe it, they are your best friends. #blessed I’m sorry I didn’t let you see that sooner.

I’m sorry that you didn’t understand that boys actually suck and you were better off alone. EVEN MORE SORRY that you didn’t grasp just how amazing being single can be. If only I knew then what I knew now about being a woman, with her own brain and her own destination. You might be disappointed to hear that I am still single, but please don’t be. It’s actually great. I move around a lot and have met some really wonderful people. I know one day I will cross paths with someone who will fit right into my adventures. I really got into poetry and I repeat this poem from Rupi Kaur often:

i do not want to have you

to fill the empty parts of me

i want to be full on my own

i want to be so complete

i could light a whole city

and then i want to have you

cause the two of us combined

could set it on fire

I’m no longer looking for my other half because I am already full, I’m looking for someone else who is also full of life. I want to set the world on fire. Which reminds me… I am so sorry that I ever let you like that boy. So, so sorry about that. My bad. He ended up being a real POS, so no worries that he didn’t love you back in the way I wanted him to.

I’m sorry that you spent your nights laying awake with the lights on and the music loud. This was, biologically, stupid. You’re body needs, like, legitimate rest and your mom was so right when she said you shouldn’t sleep like that. She also told you not to sleep in jeans and a bra, but you had to because were ready to run at any moment.

And when I say you were ready to run, it’s not a reference to the Dixie Chicks or hating your life, but rather our extreme anxiety of murderers and ghosts. Yeah, super sorry about that. Not murdered in 27 years, so I was totally wrong.

Speaking of being wrong, I’m sorry that I encouraged you to constantly judge your friends. They were going through shit too and I wouldn’t let you be there for them like you wanted to be. The good news though is that they all still loved you. And yes, they are all still in my life. I’m pretty freaking lucky.

I’m mostly sorry that I can’t meet you now and show you everything I’ve become regardless of the pessimism from 0-21.

Also important to note that I’m not sorry at all that I wanted you to see the world. I’ve seen a lot and will see more. The travel bug never left.

Finally, I’m really not sorry that your heart was always big, no matter what I was telling you in your head.

Love always,

Big rah