I need to start this by saying I am getting back into shadow work again. And our next podcast is going to be about advice to our young selves. So here is the first part of my letter. Stay tuned for more…
Dear Younger Me,
There are so many things I wish I had known, when I was younger. There is a lot of advice and guidance I’d give to you, young me, that I just didn’t know – or couldn’t (rather, wouldn’t) hear from anyone else. I have trauma from my past, and I’ve heard it’s a good idea to parent your younger self. So this is that, with a dash of nostalgia, a pinch of yearning, and a cup of sifted love. Let’s begin…
To the little girl Liz. You were so desperate for affection, even back then. You had it with your family, and you had a few friends who cared for you, but a lot of the time you felt like a misfit. A lot of times it was the bullies who made you feel that way, with their hurtful words and the way they shut you out. Children can be hateful to one another, as you saw. You just wanted to be seen, loved and accepted so badly that you used to cry about it, nightly. Your mother would sit by your bed and comfort you, tears in her own eyes. You used to use your allowance to go to the dollar store and buy little things to give to your classmates, so they’d love you, even if just for a moment. You hid in your stories and in trees. I think if I could gather you up in my own arms and tell you something, I’d say… don’t change who you are. You are vibrant. Don’t break pieces of yourself off to people who will toss the shards away. Don’t stop writing. It has and will continue to save you. Don’t stop sketching. I wish you’d never stopped. Stand up did yourself: it’s ok to draw a hard line, to put your fisted hands on your hips and stomp your foot. It’s ok to love your quirks and oddities. It’s ok to be discerning. One day you’ll be loved for all of those things. I know you can’t imagine it right now, but it’s true. Don’t lose yourself, please. It’s taken me almost 25 years to find you again.
Elisabeth Writing 