Isn’t it mad how something can be the end of the world for you at one point in your life and seem so small at another? Now writing this as the person I am, it genuinely baffles me how one horrible boy could have ever influenced me in such a way that I would want to end my life.
I love my life. Well, most days I do but isn’t that what life is? My crazy life.
My life at 23 is in no way perfect, but it is mine and I am so lucky to have it.
If only I could tell my 16-year-old self that eventually none of those things I was so focused on would matter in 7 years because they didn’t even matter in a year from then. If only I could’ve told her that three months later she wouldn’t have to cry in a toilet cubicle during classes and crawl into her mums bed after school to get some rest from the sadness she felt so deeply.
The boy she thought was the love of her life will make her stomach curdle when she accidentally comes across a picture of him years later. He is insignificant and doesn’t deserve a sentence in her life story.
In only a few months she will be strong again and the good days will overlap the bad days. There will be bad days, do not mistake that. There will be bad days, and worse days but there will be so many good days to make up for it.
If only I could’ve told her that she should be alive to see all the good days, maybe she wouldn’t pull down her sleeves so quickly when she caught someone looking at her arms or cover the top of her thighs when the sun shines on her scars.
As much as I wish I could have told her all of this, 16-year-old me must’ve known all along because she’s now 23-year year old me.
What would you say to 16 year old you?
Allie @ TEWP x