A letter to the girl I used to be

Dear Six-Year-Old Me,

Sometimes I wonder if you are disappointed by who I have become. I know I'm not what you expected. You wanted to be a singer. I aspire to be a politician. You wanted to let all this pain out. I learned to keep it hidden. Singing still has a special place in my heart but my mother killed my singing dreams. You wanted to be a model. I want to be socially acceptable. Your mother killed the model dream too. You wanted to be smart. I want to stay sane. We don't have the same scars. Your childish innocence hasn't been ripped from you by all the bullies. You still believe in fairies and magic. You still ask for help. You still talk to your mother about the bullies. You haven't figured out that your mother is never going to do anything to stop them. You don't know that she is going to become one of them. You still believe in her. 

I miss you. I remember how much you longed to be me. You thought everything would change. It did, just not the way you wanted. Your mother hasn't lectured you to stop eating 24/7 months after she begged you to eat anything at all. Your siblings haven't completely given you the cold shoulder. Your friends haven't mocked you or hit you or torn you apart. You haven't driven yourself insane with all these tiny little insecurities screaming in your head not to show up looking like that or telling you that you don't deserve the friends I have today.

You haven't met her, the girl sitting in the back in my head screaming at me to get out of here. Reminding me constantly that I will never be good enough. You haven't been told to kill yourself enough to actually consider it. You don't have nightmares every week. You don't fall asleep crying. You haven't worn long sleeve shirts for a year straight. You haven't skipped enough meals to die. You haven't almost died four times by your own hand. 

You are an angel. I am a demon. 

You haven't learned how to forgive. You haven't learned how to move on. You haven't learned how to stand up straighter everytime someone knocks you down. You don't know how to laugh and smile. 

You don't know how to live. I do. I lived through it all just so you got the chance to learn how to enjoy life. I wish you the best because I am you. Good Luck. 

Sincerely, 

Teenager You