Day #6: A note to your future You.
Dear future me,
I really don’t know what to say to you. I want to like you, to love you, but I’m not there yet. Maybe that’s what I’ll say. I hope that I love you. I hope that I like you. I hope we’ve made peace. I hope you are happy. I hope you are content with yourself. I hope you have found a good rhythm in recovery and are doing well with it. I hope you aren’t struggling still. I hope you’ve found the right balance with your exercise. I hope you feel ok. I know you’ll still have to deal with your diagnoses, but I hope right now in the future, you’re feeling well. I hope you have peace of mind. I hope you’re happy.
Day #5: A note to your past You.
Dear little girl,
I know you feel fat. You are not. No one ever told you this, so I am telling you. You are thin and lovely and perfect and there is nothing wrong with you. I know you think there is something wrong with you. There isn’t. I know you think the only way to fix it is to stop eating, to diet, to count your calories, to read the nutrition labels on your food. Don’t even start. It will only lead you down a road of pain and loneliness, of lies and deceit, of crime and shame, of regret and fear. Nothing will ever be the same once you start down that line. Don’t even go there. Tell someone instead. An adult. And keep telling them until someone listens and takes you seriously. It shouldn’t be so hard as a child to be taken seriously, so I’m sorry that you may have to fight for it, but learn to fight for what you need. Learn to advocate for yourself or no one else will. It will make you stronger in the end. Most of all, you still have a lot to face, and it’s going to be hard, but you will get through it. Don’t give up. Ever. You’re so much stronger then you think.
I love you, little girl.