l o v e . l i v e . t r a v e l. e a t. p r a i s e.
I look around my room—the same bedroom which I’ve occupied for just over 25 years. The décor has changed dramatically, as has the face in the mirror. Looking into my eyes though, I see the same girl who has stood at this mirror for years, hating herself for far too long. I desperately wish I could talk to this younger version of myself, if only just for a second. I wish I could warn her that in over ten years’ time nothing would have changed and she’d still be sitting on the same floor, crying because her life isn’t what she imagined. I wish I could tell her some things I have had to learn the hard way, and steer her far away from what is ahead. I wish I could make her start believing in herself to protect her from this. I wish I could tell her that there will be hard goodbyes and moments she’ll never get back, but to treasure them rather than resent them. I wish I could catch her before she starts high school and tell her that she is beautiful. I wish I could tell her to learn to look after herself. I wish I could tell her that sometimes it’s okay to put her needs above others’. I wish I could tell her to never give up. I wish I could tell her that she needs to start seeing herself through her creator’s eyes and no one else’s. I wish I could tell her to never settle for anything less than she deserves. I wish I could hold her—just for a second—and tell her that it’s going to be hard but that she has the strength to do this.