A Revealing Letter To My 14 Year Old Self
“To write is human, to receive a letter: Devine! ”
If Only I Had This Letter When I Was 14
A letter to my 14 year old self reads like (and not necessarily in the right order):
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Dear Frances,
First, I love you dearly and I want you to know that this too shall pass. It's not going to be a bed of roses but then you already know that from where you're sitting right now. With this letter, I will tell you that you'll go through the thicket and will come out just fine.
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I know the kids are teasing you about your mustache. I'm sorry but if you can believe me, you won't have to worry about that later on. It will disappear leaving behind another test of your times.
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Ahhhh that school picture over there to the right. Your hair is not done correctly for the occasion but that's okay because I know it's the best you could do. Lucky for you the bald spots are in the back not yet visible from the front. The thorns ahead are thickening and I'm so sorry. You will be okay. Watch and see.
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Very soon, I would say within the next year, those bald spots will be everywhere and a boy named Danny will pull your hat off in the hallway at school. Like I told you, that brier patch is thorny. If it means anything, that boy felt bad.
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I see you girl at 15 in that tam on your head. It's kinda cute and I do understand it's how you choose to cope but the road up ahead gets a little more curvy. You'll stay on course. You won't have a choice.
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Is that you? On the track team. I could tell because you're standing out as the only one with that rag on your head. You've lost most of your hair now and it's just a patchy ugly sight. That scarf is your safe blanket. I get it. You don't know yet, but those clumps are going to be all cut off one day soon.
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You understand much better now that life is not an easy path; instead, just a damn brier patch. That's why you'll cry and cry and cry yourself to sleep for many nights. You have me now. Again, I understand. Get you some tweezers and pull that thorn out. The brier patch was not forgiving today. Sleep tight for tomorrow will be a new ordinary day in your not so ordinary life.
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I wish you weren't so damn nosy. I'll just tell you now to lessen the blow. That paper you will find up in that closet in your parent's room is a divorce decree. It clarifies that your father is not your "real" father. AND, way in your senior year. Girlfriend, the blood from that thorn is not yours. You'll be okay though. You'll see.
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I'm sorry in advance that you had to flee your home after your graduation. Well, you sort of ran away. But guess what? You'll find a place to rest your head. A new home. Oh and that guy you pushed off in your senior year before you ran off, well, he's going to come again. He's right here beside me now.
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You'll make it and guess what else? You won't have to go back there. Back to that place called home where peace was non-existent. The price you'll pay to lay your head elsewhere will be a sign on your back that reads, "the cleanup woman". Just clean the bathrooms in those two buildings after all those nasty college boys. You'll have a room in return as long as you add $100. Yes ma'am ain't nothing free in life. It beats the streets though.
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Laaaaawd, I didn't know you would be interested in being a groupie! PLEASE, those drugs they use, pass on those. They won't help you get to this place where I'm sitting today. Obviously!
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Your "not real" father married again to Cinderella's stepmother. Need I say more? You had a place to lay your head though. Haha, you won't clean the dishes or sweep the floor. I promise you. You are something else honey. I saw how you avoided that.
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That guy you met before you ran off from home; that one that brought you roses to impress you after he offered you a doughnut in driving class to get acquainted. Thought you should know that he's sitting in the room with me right now. Yup, you invited him back. He's lovely, loving, and will love you forever no matter what. I promise you that too.
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Just as a reminder, you left home without a trace. When you pick up that phone to call your mother after an estranged two years, just know that you made double sure, like the song says, that God blessed YOU, that child who has its own.
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Before you lay down to sleep, I want you to know that I'll see you every step of the way. When you’re 21, I'll be back to lead you forward. I've been through the ticket and I'm here watching you come through.
Love Always,
Fran
Your 58 Year Old Self
