If You’re Listening

I’m halfway through a writing workshop with my favorite poet, Andrea Gibson, and one of our prompts today really grabbed me: Write a pep talk to your younger self.

It wasn’t a new concept. In treatment last year, I started writing letters to myself and it is/can be so healing. When I began writing this poem, I didn’t think or feel much about it…but that quickly changed.

There’s something about this poem…about these words…about this time in my life…about hearing these words, coming from me.

And I wonder if maybe Younger You needs to hear them, too. 💛

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If You’re Listening
(Prompt: A pep talk to my younger self)

I still think about the time when I was 7
And my babysitter told me
If you take a shower during a thunderstorm
You could be electrocuted and die
For years I refused to shower when it was raining
And for many more years I only showered when it did

If I could talk to that girl today
I’d want to say something like
Hold on, it gets better
But it would probably come out sounding something like

You can’t see it now
But you have more to offer the world than your body
You have more to give than perfection
More to hold than your tongue
You have every reason to believe
Tomorrow is worth sticking around for
Even when today feels like the end

I know you don’t believe it
But I’m going to tell you anyway
As many times as it takes
It’s not your fault
It never was
And I know you wonder if you could’ve changed it
If you could’ve stopped it
If you should’ve known better
But you couldn’t
You didn’t
And that’s okay

You’re allowed to be a kid
As long as you want
Because growing up
Isn’t what an 8-year-old is meant to do
You should be daydreaming and playing dress-up
And singing songs and playing princess
Instead of nightmaring and hiding the truth about the dare
Playing doctor in the dark
As your innocence disappears
Like a magic trick gone wrong
Like the man sawed in half
You lost part of yourself those years

But you’re still allowed to be a kid
To not know the answer to every question
To raise your hand in class
And throw the question right back at
That asshole of a teacher
Who told you not to write
Your heart into the margins
When that was what kept you alive

You’re allowed to not know
That your best day is still on its way
And that your worst day probably is, too

You’re allowed to know
It hurts to be the punchline of every fat joke
And to not have the words to say
Hey, that hurts

You’re allowed to survive
The best way you know how
And the best way you know how
Is good enough for now

But you’re also allowed to throw toddler-like tantrums
Because it’s fucking hard to be alive
It’s hard to survive when nobody ever taught you
How to not die a little bit every time
Your panic catches you by surprise

You’re allowed to have bad days
And bad months and bad years
But I want you to know
You’ll have really great ones too
And those are worth holding onto
Because you’ll need them to get through
The days that are yet to be

You see, the days that are yet to be
Are full of love and grief
And I’ve been told those are the same thing
That grief is the price of love
And as much as it hurts
It reminds us
This life is still worth living

And while we’re on the topic of living
I know that’s not an activity
You’re totally convinced is worth your time
I know you’re not sure it’s worth all the trouble
But please hear me
There is music in your bloodstream
A thousand tiny bass drums in every beat
Of your beautifully broken heart
And your music knows how to sing
Your heart to sleep
And wake you up with the dawn
Because this world needs the music that is you
This world needs you

So, if you’re listening
On this gray, stormy day
Skip the shower today