Found a writing prompt, wound up running with it and this is the result…

The prompt was something like “write a letter to someone who made a difference in your life asking them for help” and I started writing it as a letter and it kind of wound up like a journal, but whateverrrr haha

Dear you,

Dear important human of my past, dear one who helped shape me, dear person I haven’t forgotten and won’t forget probably ever…

I am writing to you go to ask for a favor. I know you’ve already done enough in my life to help me, and I’ve never taken that help for granted; I remember often that you changed my world for the better and honestly, that you were the first one who saved me. You started a chain reaction of positive change just by noticing me. By hearing me. You set the ball rolling for the rest of my life, a future that I actually began to look forward to. I am forever grateful.

You may now know how much your acts of kindness helped me, but they did. I can’t underestimate what it meant to me that you were safe and that you built up trust with me. You were powerfully inspiring. And it resonates with me still. It has for eleven years.

So yes, I realize it may be selfie for me to once again seek your wisdom and advice and assistance.

But my life, that future you showed me could be worthwhile, isn’t going as I expected. I mean, I’ve had high points and I’ve made beautiful memories and I cherish how far I’ve come and I have such excitement and hope about what my world can be. I just…I can’t seem to get myself on track in terms of solidified plans and definite progress.

So my actual question, I guess, is this:

Can you remind me of who I was? Can you remind me of the passion you unlocked inside of me? Can you speak to me about the journey I embarked on and recreate the spark you ignited inside of me?

I hope remembering my teenage self will…I guess reestablish my motivation?

What I really want is to make you proud of me, because lately I feel like I’ve been failing in that endeavor. I want to do something important and significant and worthy of the faith you had in my past self (and my present one!). I want to prove to you that helping me all those years ago was worth it. I know I can do it, somehow or some way, but I’m scared that I’m not.

I’m hearing my words as I write them. And what I’m hearing, as I type them out and process their meaning, is that I want to be proud of MYSELF. I want to feel like I’ve done things I can give myself credit for, things that make me feel like I’m smart. I want to impress others, but more importantly my self.  To find my limits and push myself beyond them, to the better side of success, to the place where I’ll look upon my security and smile. I want to work hard enough to get to a point where forward motion isn’t difficult anymore but is instead simply the direction I’m going in implicitly. I want to do right by me.

I want the passion inside my depths to be set free in a way that aligns with who I am and who I’m capable of becoming. Because I certainly AM capable of becoming what I envision —and mind you, I’m capable of envisioning it only because you instilled in me eleven years ago that I could.

Maybe I didn’t picture it hard enough back then though, since I’m still struggling. Maybe I should’ve worked harder back then so I’d be better off now.

But I’m trying not to live with regret! What good will that do?! I don’t think bashing my sixteen-year-old self is helpful. Although following that logic, it follows to say that getting down on my twenty-seven year old self isn’t helpful either.

I’m trying. I know that I am, and I know if you spoke with me about it now, you’d see that in me. You saw the good in me back then. You saw the potential and the strength and the desire to be whole and happy and inspiring. I know I still have that. It hasn’t evaporated out of me; the most crucial parts of who we are can’t simply vanish into thin air.

I just ask that you remind me of how crucial those parts of me are. How they are intertwined with my very essence of being.

Can you please remind me that I can do this? I need the reassurance.

Or at the very least, can you affirm that I’m not failing you? That I’m still a work in progress but that doesn’t mean I’m not also a masterpiece? That I’ll get there. Hopefully soon, but if not soon then when I’m supposed to get there. That slow and steady wins the race, so long as I’m enjoying being in the race?

I know. It’s different for everyone. I shouldn’t compare myself to someone else’s end if I’m still in my middle. I shouldn’t even compare myself to someone else’s middle, because I’m me. Not them. And I’m glad I’m me.

And I’m glad you helped shape me, because I’m turning out to be pretty fucking cool.

I’ll end with a tremendous thank you. For both what you’ve done in the past and for reading this letter. I’m pretty sure the plea I had for you at the start of my writing this has been dealt with simply via the process of getting these words down. I feel better after a mere one-sided conversation to you. That’s how powerful you are! No wonder you were able to have such a profound impact on me 🙂

I hope you are well and loving life and enjoying your days and smiling every chance you get. I look forward to catching up!

Love love love you,

Laura

 

I didn’t proofread this and I have no clue if it makes any sense. I wrote it in like less than an hour, which I normally don’t do. It usually takes me a longg long time to write anything and everything. And I usually don’t mind it taking that long. After all, I fuckin’ love writing 🙂 But I’ve got this writing prompt app I’ve been using, and it’s really cool! It gives you prompts if you need them, and advice too sometimes.  Cool, right? And you can set a word count goal and it tracks how far you’ve gotten in it.  It’s pretty awesome for people who have a goal to write a certain amount every day. I suggest it for burgeoning writers such as myself. I lost track of what I was saying there (thank you to the racing thoughts and flight of ideas that come with being bipolarrrr ugh)…my point was that with the app I just let my fingers fly and it’s helpful in getting me to write shit quickly.

I wrote a poem-type thing (an artsy essay? I’m always hesitant to use the word poetry) the other day on it, maybe I’ll post that here too.

Aaaanyway. Enjoy, I guess?

 

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