A letter to my 22 year old self:

You’ll learn that your imperfections aren’t easy to process,

but don’t let anyone convince you they make you unlovable.

The next few years will be a rollercoaster,

and that’s okay.

Fasten your seatbelt, wild child.

It’s okay to cry — and you will,

whether in an empty hotel room on a distant beach

or in the woods with someone who you

have a complicated relationship with.

You have an extraordinary capacity for perseverance,

and your chosen family will love you fiercely.

I’ll be forward with you — you’ll lose yourself.

You’ll float in a pond of placidity for a while,

numb and adrift.

But, darling, open your eyes.

See your light —

it’s always been there.