By Ann M Lindaman March, 2002 ©
I love to read chicken soup stories. I have one delivered each week day to email address. Some are uplifting, some are sad, or perhaps bittersweet would be a better word. Some are thought provoking. I received one the other day entitled, “What Would I say to a Younger Me?” Written by Jim Warda. Having just lost my father days prior to receiving this, it seemed like the right time to ask myself that question. What would I say to a younger me? That is a very good question isn’t it? A person should ask themselves that from time to time and maybe, just maybe it might help us answer some of the unanswered questions that we have dwelling inside of us. Maybe some people could answer that question relatively quickly and simply. I couldn’t. I had to really think hard about it. For one thing, I barely remember the younger me. I’m not sure I was ever “younger”. Was I a little girl who played and laughed, sang and jumped rope, a child who was carefree and happy? If I was, I don’t remember her. Going on the assumption that I was that little girl, I decided to ask and answer the question. I decided to pretend that now at the age of 48 that I was sitting across from myself at the age of 5. Why did I pick the age of 5? I suppose because most children do remember things by that age. My memories of childhood are few and far between.
I imagine a bright eyed little girl with a round face, green eyes, and short straight light brown hair. I imagine her that way because that’s how she was described to me. I imagine that little girl being self-confident and singing “Daddy-O” to her Daddy. I can imagine that because I’ve heard a tape recording of her singing that song. I imagine a little girl who lived in a house with her Mom and Dad, with a new little sister, a dog and visiting her Grandma and Grandpa often and feeling that the sun rose and set on them. I can imagine that because I’ve seen pictures that tell the story and I do remember worshiping my Grandparents. I guess I would tell that little girl that life would never be as easy as it was right then. I would tell her to not take on the responsibility for everyone else, that everyone makes their own choices and it’s not her fault for one single choice that anyone else has made. I would tell her not to allow herself to become so self-conscious that she’s afraid to do the things that she wants to do. I would tell her to not to ever let go of the confidence she feels right now and to allow herself be the person that God meant her to be. I would tell her to play with toys and friends and to jump up and down if she felt like it, or sing out loud if she wanted to. I would tell her to keep a smile on her face and not worry about making everyone else happy. To just be a little five year old girl!
Then I would watch her grow in front of my eyes, to maybe the age of 8 or 9, ages which I have no memory at all. I would tell her that one day she would respect her mother immensely for having the courage to leave her father. I would tell her not to be swayed by his manipulation and his self-pity. I would tell her to listen when her mother told her to “love your Dad for who he is and copy is good habits, but you don’t have to copy his bad habits.” I would warn her that there are people in the world that will harm her for their own pleasure, some out of desperation for acceptance and some out of a sickness beyond comprehension. I would tell her that if she sees other little girls being hurt that even if she’s afraid to tell anyone, it’s not her fault.
If I could talk to a younger me from the age of 18 to 30, there are so many things that I would tell myself. I'd tell myself once again, don't be in such a hurry to grow up. You've got your whole life to work, be married and have children. Take some time for yourself; learn who you are before you allow other's to define you. And above all else, even though you're tired of hearing it, get an education. Don’t worry about having a boyfriend, spend more time with your girlfriends! Don't be afraid that you're not smart enough or good enough to succeed. That's probably two of my biggest regrets; getting married right after graduating from high school and not getting an education. It's not that I wished that the marriage had never happened because out of that union our daughter was born. I'm just saying that I wish I'd waited and spent some time with myself. Perhaps I wouldn't crave that solitude so much now if I'd taken the time when I was younger.
I'd also tell this thin, somewhat attractive young woman sitting in front of me to be proud of how you look. Don't be ashamed of your body and don’t allow yourself to dwell on the features that you dislike or wished you didn't have. Take a lot of pictures of yourself and because your body is so beautiful, take tasteful nude pictures, for one day, you will realize that this body that you've disliked and tried to hide all of these years has aged and gotten heavier and isn't attractive and sexy any more. When you realize that you can still be beautiful on the inside and even though that's what counts the most, there will still be this feeling of loss for the body you once had. If you've got it, flaunt it! But don't get too full of yourself. It is one thing to be proud and another to be vain.
I'd tell a younger me to be yourself, but don't let those traits rule you. Don't be so sensitive that you're afraid to ask. Don't be so afraid of rejection that you don't try. It's ok to be perceptive, but don't let what you perceive to be other's feelings, stop you from doing what you think is right. And remember, you are right a lot of the time. Just because everyone doesn't agree with you, doesn't make you wrong. Stand up for yourself, for what you believe in and who you are. Don't be afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve, but remember when it gets hurt or broken by another, the sun will come up tomorrow and life will go on. Just pick yourself up and get right back in there, because more people than not will appreciate you and you'd be denying them a chance to know you if you allow the heartache to take over.
I'd tell younger self to look inside and see what other people see and like about you. Try to appreciate yourself, try to like yourself. Don't take responsibility for other's feelings or even their actions. And try not to do everything yourself. You don't need to be perfect. You are the only one who thinks you need to be perfect. Trying to attain perfection guarantees failure. Lighten up, enjoy life.
Nobody will think less of you if you make a mistake. Everyone does. Nobody will think less of you if you aren't superwoman or super mother. Nobody is. You're the one that puts these unattainable goals and ideas in your head. It's ok to have a goal and ideas, but you need to be realistic. And you need to realize that spending quality time with your children is more important that a clean house. Take more time and display more patience and understanding as your children grow, make mistakes and learn from those mistakes. Spend more time letting them see who you are inside. You are a good role model, whether you realize it now or not.
Looking into the mirror today, I would tell the 48 year old me, the woman who just lost her father, a woman who was on the verge of allowing regrets to take over life, to not let it. Just don’t let it. I would tell her that yes, you may wish you had been there when your father died, but you weren’t. You might wish that you had made that one last phone call or that you hadn’t prayed that it would be over for your Dad the day before he died. I would tell her that everyone, including your Dad and God knows that the prayer was made in love and compassion for a man who had suffered for so long. I would reassure her that she didn’t wish him to die to be rid of him, and that her prayer did not make him die. I would tell her that feeling sad is ok, after all, a member of your family is physically gone forever, but his spirit can live on as much and as alive as you allow it to. I would reassure her that even though she couldn’t have the kind of relationship she pictured or wanted that she did her best to allow this often times extremely troubled man in her heart and life. I would tell her that in his memory and in the spirit of learning as we go along this somewhat rugged path of life, to pick yourself up and start living again. And do it today!
So that’s what I did today. And that’s what I’ll try to do every day.
