What I would tell my teenage self

I recently turned twenty-five. And I have a lot to say to my teenage self, but we’ll keep things short:

Stop settling for every man that falls in love with you.

Unfortunately, you won’t experience the magic of love until you learn how to fully love yourself first. I know, it sucks. It’s not a pleasant journey. You’ll experience a fair share of heartbreaks, crying in the showers, even scars on your body. Yet again, you’re probably going to want to make every relationship work. You fear it’s something you gave up on but it’s okay to let go. Prioritize yourself, your goals, your happiness. It’s not being selfish, it’s being strong. 

Everyone is pretty, everyone is sweet. But nobody is you.

Close your ears when people around you praise you for being “pretty,” “sweet,” “nice,” “good,” “behaved.” Yes those are all wonderful words to describe a young lady. But they aren’t what defines you. It’s okay to misbehave, speak up, break rules from time to time. You are also “intelligent,” “intuitive,” “wise,” “brave,” and many, many more things.

Take all the time in the world to discover yourself. Now is the time to be messy, be heartbroken, be financially broke, whatever it is, be that now. You don’t have much to lose and no time will be wasted. It’s a lesson.

There is a story of sacrifice and grace.

*Paniz please skip to the next section*

There is no such love as the one you two share in this world. People will find you two extremely odd, but that’s cool. Keep that magic your whole life and I promise you’ll never grow old.

And maybe tell her how much you love her, often.

You don’t know much. Learn about money, and save. Read more, the answer is all there. Humble yourself. Keep your mentors close. Continue to grow, it’s a muscle.

You’ll always be unsatisfied looking at yourself in passport photos. It’s okay to enhance the look of the body you’re living in. But don’t expect to perfect your looks by surgeries. Your life project is inside yo body, not yo body. Amen I wish it was that easy.

You WILL have a dog, don’t worry.

Your Sunday mornings will no longer be described as black coffee with cinnamon. It’ll be described as a wet nose. Be patient, she is perfect.

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6 Comments

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