What do I wish I could tell my younger self?

I wish I could talk to my younger self.

I wish I could tell her what her future holds. I don’t know if she would have listened. I think she would have.

Beyond that, even if she listened, I’m not sure she would have believed me. Her life was sooo dark. She was so hopeless and lost.

She was so confused and didn’t believe there was a future for her. She didn’t see how she could turn her life or her circumstances around. But she did. She did it.

I wish I could tell her that she is powerful, beautiful, bold, and brave.

I wish I could slap some sense into her, but she got there on her own eventually.

I wish I could convince her to leave the abusers sooner.

I wish I could tell her life is magnificent once you conquer suicidality.

I wish I could tell her that her life is precious, that she is precious.

I wish I could tell her that she did a good job with her kids. That she did the best she could, and that was seen and understood, and even forgiven.

I wish I could tell her she won’t always be addicted, and that she helps many, many people conquer their addictions.

I wish I could tell her that trusting your intuition is a skill, and it takes practice.

I wish I could tell her about her many gifts — both the esoteric and the pragmatic.

I wish I could tell her there is a pathway through shame.

I wish I could tell her that self-hatred is a state, not a permanent condition.

I wish I could tell her that trust is a skill, and it takes practice.

I wish I could tell her that the PTSD gets better.

I wish I could tell her that the depression gets better.

I wish I could slap the knives, razors, syringes, and pills from her hand.

I wish I could tell her that her suffering is useful, it has served a purpose.

I wish I could tell her about our life now — how we laugh every day, how we don’t have to worry about the drama, how we finally own a home and have stability.

I wish I could show her our home, furniture, and décor. Because those things — while simple — mean a lot to someone living out of a car.

I wish I could show my younger self our grandmother’s wedding dress, and the wedding by the waterfall.

I wish I could tell her what she has, and how incredible she is, and not to throw herself away.

I wish I could tell her about her incredible dogs, and friendships.

I wish I could show her all the amazing places she goes, and the things she does. I wish she could see those things because I know they would give her some hope, a glimmer to keep going.

I wish I could tell her that the drugs, homelessness, crime, abuse, voices, and suicide attempts all help her in her future.

I wish I could tell her she makes a difference in the world.

I wish I could tell her how her smile is meaningful to so many people.

I wish I could tell her not to give up, that there is hope, that there is a spark, and that things to improve.

I wish I could help her see her inner strengths. I wish I could help her understand how much she is loved.

I wish I could help her understand the connectedness of all things.

I wish I could hold her hand. I wish I could take her to the beach, to hang out and play Rummy with her and make her laugh and corny jokes.

I wish I could nurture her spirit and be her friend because I know she feels very, very alone.

I wish I could explain to my younger self the journey I’ve been on since I was her.

I wish I could tell her how differently we feel about faith, spirituality, and God.

I wish I could show her the new spine we grew, and that we are no longer a doormat.

I wish I could show her the power of her voice, and the grounded certainty it carries now.

I wish I could show her how happy, optimistic, and abundant we are now.

I wish I could show her the skills and knowledge we’ve gained.

I wish I could tell her that it all worked out in the end.

I wish I could tell her it was all going to be worth it.

I wish I could tell her to keep going.

I wish I could tell her that she is loved by others. And that love doesn’t have to mean people hurting you constantly.

I wish I could tell her how amazing her kids are.

I wish I could tell her how beautiful her hair is, and not to chop it all off in a haze.

I wish I could tell her to appreciate her friends because some of them won’t make it.

I wish I could tell her to appreciate her family because they’ll be dearly missed.

I wish I could tell her to make the most out of her time because it all flies by at an incredible pace.

I wish I could tell her the world is a different place now than it used to be.

I wish I could tell her to lift her head and set her eyes on the horizon — not her feet.

I wish I could tell my younger self that she will be okay.

I wish I could tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell her to dry her eyes because I am here for her.