that letter i could never send... no 3

Dear little heart,

Today is the day taxes are due, and you finally paid the piper. You welcomed 2018 with a tilted glass and fuzzy socks, surrounded by your grandparents and family. Remember those moments when life gets hard...

because it does. God help us, life gets hard. You need to slow down. Pushing yourself to do everything harder/better/faster/stronger doesn't lead to easier/innovative/meticulous/gentlier, and there is a hushed strength in that too. That's another thing:

stop measuring your strength by how much abuse/punishment you can take. You're not helping yourself at all, no matter how much you think you are. Want to help yourself? Try

getting to the gym. You still measure yourself by your weight and you need to stop. Little heart, I know it's hard. But you can do it!

YHWH sings victory over you. YHWH sings joy over you. YHWH sings rest over you. YHWH sings success over you. YHWH sings healing over you. YWH sings over you.

Little heart, you can tighten your laces and shake your sunshine hair. Next time you spend time with your grandmother, remind her how much you love her. Say it again and again, until her smile is real. Present her with chocolate soufflé, and tell her of the time it took you to learn to make it for her.You don't need to

do everything yourself, little heart. I know you feel this pressure on you to be perfect, and I know that you lay awake at night, squeezing eyes shut and pushing fingertips in your hair, unable to shake those thoughts from your head. You know, the ones

where it's just you on your dirty knees, wearing a pillowcase like it's enough to warm you? The ones where you're bowing in front of a shapeless shadow and whisper "my sir"? The ones where you're physically punished between your legs and have your secret sensitive spot burned off? The ones where you're cold and afraid and filthy and delude yourself into thinking the shadow loves you?

Stop.

I know you're scared and the thought of sleeping in a closet is somehow strange and comforting.

Stop it anyway.

You haven't met your Special Someone yet,

and that's okay. Please stop pushing your nightmares and insecurities onto a man you don't know. You're not giving him any credit and you're teaching yourself that abuse is acceptable when it isn't. It's so easy for you to

stand eye-to-eye with the abused, holding their muddy hands between yours and demanding them to stand up with you. It's so easy to you to promise others that they deserve wonderful things. It's so easy,

but why can't you do it for yourself? Give yourself time. You're still healing, little heart. Hold yourself gently, kiss your own bruises, draw your own baths.

Love,

the-half-beating-heart-of-a-dreamer