Dear Younger Me:

Nine. That’s the shoe size you will have when you are older. You will need to know that if you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, as you have been warned about. Right now, you are still wearing those jelly shoes that make your feet sweat. You have been wearing them everywhere lately: stomping on soggy fries by the pool, squatting in the creek to catch crawdads, and even to church, despite mom’s requests not to.

Shoes are kind of a big deal in the future. You will be judged by them frequently. They will be a status symbol if you can afford Louboutin heels. They will be a quiet statement if you wear Converse high tops to support Kamala Harris. Some will even be collectible items if you choose to track new sneaker releases. What they will not be is dropped.

Until now, you have received the message loud and clear that your actions have consequences. You have been grounded for staying out past when the streetlights come on. You have had to write a sentence one hundred times to remind you not to talk so much during class. You have even had to wear the dreaded Dunce Hat for reporting a boy holding you down to kiss you on the playground. That will also change in the future, so your voice will have more power as you grow up.

Look down. See how you are holding your hands. Your knuckles are white, your dirty nails are digging into your palms. There is a familiar tightness in the way your face lands, just like mom’s. These are what we now call nonverbal cues that relate to stress. What you do not know yet is that stress doesn’t just happen when something bad happens. For you, it walks hand in hand with guilt when something good happens too. In your mind, you think every good thing must be balanced with a bad thing: the other shoe must drop. Your job is to brace for its impact and assume the position you are in right now.

As you get older, you will learn to manufacture the punishment if it doesn’t show up on its own. You will be dating someone who pauses too long after you have told them you love them and you will anticipate the punch of the other shoe falling, even if they tell you they love you too. The pause was toxic.

You will hear your mom and dad talk about how great the family vacation will be, but you will already be doing the mental countdown of what will come next to balance out that joy. Will your house flood again? Will your friend not invite you to a party? Will there be chain letters that follow, requiring you to forward them…or else?

I am here to tell you that, if you continue to tell yourself these stories, you will have a noticeable hump on your back when you are older. You will also have acid reflux and headaches and, most importantly, you will be robbed of joy no matter how it presents itself.

It will take you until you are 52 to discover self-love. You will waste many years and relationships assuming that every ounce of happiness that comes your way will have conditions with it. In truth, you will have many struggles, but there is no need to complicate them with narratives of doom inside your head.

At your age, the lessons are still malleable. You can unlearn so many of the things that could hurt you and you can learn that you are strong enough to bounce back when tragedy does strike. As a neurodivergent, your brain will work differently than some, but that creative, quirky side of you will serve you well,

So, kick off your sticky jelly shoes and maybe dry some of the ick off your feet. Lay back on the slide in the backyard and watch the clouds. Wave at planes flying overhead and make up stories of who is in them. Breathe deeply and absorb all the joy of being young because you will need to harvest happiness and grace for future challenges. Above all, know that you are safe. You no longer have to protect yourself with that inner dialog. You are strong and beautiful and never, ever have to think about the other shoe dropping because you hold the power to accept love unconditionally.

All my love,

Trina