Dear Little Me

It will be okay… eventually.

I was en pointe later in the year this photo was taken — photo owned by author

Prompt: Something you wish you could tell your younger self

Three years old.

Dear Tiny Dancer,

Don’t push so hard for the big girl ballet shoes. It looks pretty and fun and so grown up but it hurts and it’s hard and you will learn things you’re way too young to learn.

It’s okay to cry. No matter what anyone says, you don’t have to smile when you don’t want to smile. They should know better than to ignore your pain. They should protect you. But it’s okay to cry when they don’t.

Mommy is mean and I’m sorry little one but that won’t change. Dance while you love it because you love it. Not for her. Smile when you’re happy. Not when you’re told to. Play. Be a child. The big girl shoes on their tippy tippy toes can wait. I know that you can’t, but there will come a day that you’ll wish you could have.

Nothing makes sense to you right now. Everything seems exciting and scary at the same time. Mommy’s looking at you and wants you to do something and you waited so long for her to see you. But when she says the mean words and blames you for everything… it’s not your fault.

Ten years old.

Dear bubbling rage,