Dear inner teenager—writer of break-up letters, potbelly pig cuddler, improv star, belter of Disney princess songs, and mermaid princess,

Would you believe it? At age 23, it is your well of resilience, courage, and drive that ignites a fire within me.

I look at old photographs and see our big, brown, otherworldly eyes. Over the years, the light in them has flickered, but never dimmed, despite my fear of that happening.

I flip through your journals and never fail to find reflections and insights you couldn’t have known then, that I would need now. You are wiser than I remember feeling at that time.

Rather than a sweet sixteen party, you adventure to Mexico with Mom. And when prom arrives, you bring your younger sister as your date, even though you have a boyfriend. You stand up and speak up for yourself when your “friends” ignore you at lunch. You wear the same dress from elementary and middle school graduations to your high school one. You are a pagan witch in a Catholic household, and the same altar you owned then, I still use now.

I can always count on you to serve as a bridge between my inner child and me, preserving her wisdom and reminding me to honor her needs. Altogether, we are an old soul moving from forgetfulness to remembrance—and that is no easy feat. Mischievous, but not malevolent, you show up as your whole self even when it comes at a cost, but you still feel the weight of grief that comes with each loss.

So often, you find yourself in scenarios where you need to make the same choice—repress or express. While neither option is free from consequence, each time you choose the latter, you’re happier than when you don’t. Every time you express your truth in the moment, you do so for you, but you also do it for the parts of us who, in our past moments, didn’t know how to.

You, wild and whimsical one, are the uncensored embodiment of our imagination. It’s no wonder Theatre and English are your favorite subjects.

But somewhere inside, you still believe the lie that you’re only loved when you’re not you. You’re deeply hurt by words spoken by those who don’t hold themselves to the same level of integrity as you.

I want you to know that a soul family awaits you in Florida, including a father who sees and cherishes every part of us, a sister who walks a spiritual path parallel to ours, and of course, goat kids. Family will come to mean something much different from what it does now, and though feelings of guilt and grief may come with the best of it, I need you to know that you are deserving and capable of being met and loved at the same depths that you exist in.

But know this too, you cannot change someone to be what they are not, no matter how much they or you may want it.

Look at us, for instance. Over the years, we have changed, yet at our core, we remain the same.

I still love everything you love—and more.

I know why you are afraid of losing all of the colors of you. But I promise to preserve them. You can revel in excitement at the many new shades you have yet to meet, that make up all that I am.

The light at the end of the tunnel is actually a reflection in the mirror at the far end of the cave. When you walk through the darkness, it is your light that guides you through. The light at the end of the tunnel is you.

So if you make your way into something, know you can always find a way out.

Only those who fear the responsibility that comes with wielding their power will attempt to dissuade you from accessing yours. It is only you who can choose to give your power away. No one else can take it from you.

What happens in life will happen. What you let it mean in the big picture of things and within your own heart is up to you. And if you do happen to give away your power, it’s up to you to take it back. No one is going to give it to you.

You—the underdog who rises, the quiet one who transforms on stage—are never defined by your best step, nor your worst misstep on the path of stepping stones into the unknown. Your imagination is complementary to your intellect, and you’ll need both to help you create something truly magical. So hold onto your belief in magic, even as others outgrow your make-believe games, and you will see when you do, our world never ceases to sparkle.

Your wise, yet carefree existence tends to trigger people who perceive this world as black or white, versus multi-color and multi-shade. Despite your best efforts, some people are just not ready to leave their disempowered states.

When you focus on empowering yourself, people will want to start recruiting you to fight their wars. But you must remember—you are a manifestor. You are here to initiate, inspire, and impact—just by being and doing you.

You help me remember that we are big and that we are here to do big things, which means we need to learn how to take up space for ourselves, in addition to holding space for others. Promise to help me master this dance time and time again, so we can always feel free to write, speak, and sing to our heart’s content.

Developing discernment will help us combat our tendency toward confusion. Differentiating our intrinsic worth from cross-contaminated opinions that surround us is a lesson to be learned, and ever-relearned. Through it all, your light reflects truth in all directions—a rainbow of authenticity that shines in the face of adversity.

Every ounce of resonance, love, and empowerment I feel now is a testament to you. Your wide range and depth of emotions contain messages that are essential to our development. Thank you for letting me know what we need, what we’ll refuse to accept, and what is (or isn’t) worth fighting for.

Most of all, thank you for reminding me to not take life so seriously, to be willing to step out of my comfort zone, and to always make fun a priority.

Your memory is a reminder that my greatest gifts have always been a part of me.

With unconditional love and gratitude,
Your older self

Dear, Unsealers:

This is me in 2023, writing to myself at age 16.

I see the photo of him from December 2001, four months removed from a double leg surgery. In the background at his own birthday party. Clutching onto the walker to keep his balance. While trying to find a reason to smile.

I want to let him know, there will be plenty more days of joy in the years ahead. He will have the cast removed from his leg and be able to walk on his own two feet. And that moment will be one that he’ll treasure for the rest of his lifetime.

Once the brace comes off, the world will no longer be as off limits. With all the strength and courage returning, Europe will come calling. A trip every year for five straight years. He’ll keep on going as he keeps exploring the continent and writes about his experiences. The photos and videos taken will also convey what it was like to travel solo.

He’ll graduate from high school and college, with the diplomas on the wall to prove it. Along with the poster from his book, “A Poetic Journey, Staying At Home” on the wall of his bedroom when his writing and poetry begin to take shape.

It might not look like it at 16, but there will still be plenty of life to be lived. And your story of resilience will go on to inspire other people to see beyond their limitations.

Dear Teenage Self,

You have a view of the Brooklyn Bridge. Yes, you can only see a little part of it. Yes, you have to go to the corner of the window to see. But, yes, you have a view of the Brooklyn Bridge! You made it to New York City; you made it across the country.

College has been more up and down than that roller coaster you rode in Las Vegas on your 15th birthday, but it has been the best years of your life. Unlike yourself now, you can finally talk to boys without getting red in the face, and unlike your fear of never making guy friends, now most of your friends are guys. You love them all. You have cried on their shoulders; they have cried on yours.

College you even has a boyfriend. He is nothing like how you expected. He is tall, rocks a beard, eyes prettier than emeralds, and not Christian. The letter you wrote to your future husband when you were about to go to college could not have been more wrong. You wrote that you knew nothing about your future husband except for the fact that he will love God. Fickle irony, God. This time though, I am grateful for it.

Your boyfriend treats you how God would want him too. He is beyond patient and makes you believe in love more and more each day. He is someone I never thought I would deserve.

Also, dear pubescent me, you may think you’re going through high school right now, but all the pubescent phases you’re supposed to have––dating, dealing with secret insecurities, drinking, parties, etc––you are going through now. You’re a late bloomer for the stereotypical adolescent horrors and ecstasies. But, don’t worry, all that studying and staying home you are doing right now––however excessive it is––pays off in the end.

Oh yeah, by the way, your dream of studying abroad in Spain, it’s happening this fall. Oh yeah, and your mom believes in love again. She’s happier than ever. Oh yeah, and your best friend––no surprise there––you are still soulmates with her. She’s still your north star.

Best of all, every birthday you no longer think well, at least I know it won’t say “whatever age I just passed” on my tombstone. I’m in control of my thoughts that once made me believe I wouldn’t let myself get to 19 or 20, but, here I am, 19, and about to turn 20 in a few weeks.

Teenage self, I want to say thank you for holding on. Thank you for reaching out to get help, thank you for putting yourself first when you didn’t even see yourself as worthy enough to be here, thank you for looking forward to your future self. I do not look down on you; rather, I am on my knees thanking you for walking even when your legs were numb and breathing even when you had to grab the air yourself and make it go down.

You made me who I am; I will make us proud.

Dear Queer Religious Teenage Self,

You don’t remember this, but you once told Mom that you liked girls at a young age. The reason that you don’t remember realizing that you are queer at such a tender age is that your parents are pastor’s kids and Pentecostals. Their reaction to this information about you led to prayer and fasting. You learned that being gay, though you did not know the term for it then, was something to be ashamed of. To cope, to stay safe in your family and community, you repressed any hint of queerness. You became homophobic and transphobic with a religious zeal that only a self-hating closeted gay could possibly possess. You hurt your friends and yourself with this because you were fighting so hard to deny a critical part of yourself.

There was a lot of agony surrounding the delayed realization of the truth. Accepting ourselves and leading an honest life would result in the loss of your family and faith community. To retain those relationships, you would have to condemn yourself to a lifetime of lies and repression that could only have negative long-term effects on your mental health and well-being. Years went by as you examined every facet of these choices and all of the possible consequences. You begged God to heal you, to take away your homosexuality so that your family wouldn’t view you as an abomination. You prayed, fasted, cried, screamed, etc., but nothing worked. The religious trauma had you believing that you were unnatural, wrong, and perverse when your queerness is a beautiful, natural thing to be celebrated, not scorned and hidden.

This back-and-forth cycle of rejection and acceptance of self leads you to some dark places, but eventually, you make it out. You’ll leave Christianity, you’ll go through the painful process of orphaning yourself by going no-contact with the majority of your biological family, but you also gain a chosen family.

Teenage self, you may struggle now and in the future, but with time you will be able to make decisions that honor who you are and bring you closer to who you want to be. The journey is in no way easy, but it is wholly worth it. Stay strong, be brave; you’ve got this!