Little Brittyboo,

Your best friend’s older brother told you that it was a sin to say the word “gay,” and what I love about you is that you asked questions instead of shutting up.

You ripped your pants sliding down a giant rock at the playground during the church picnic, and you freaked out and cried, but what I love about you is that you expressed how you felt embarrassed and upset, and you chose to keep playing after a friend’s mom gave you a zip-up sweatshirt to tie around your waist to cover the tear down your butt.

The popular person in 5th grade asked you who you liked, and you told her only for her to immediately ask them if they liked you back (in front of everyone). That sucked. What I like about you is that you faced rejection bravely when they said “no” for everyone to hear.

You sing and what I love about you is that you find harmony for every sound you hear especially when it’s the blender or the vacuum. I love that you raise your hand when there are opportunities to speak your mind or to sing solos in the chorus.

You like sipping a sweet drink while you walk, exploring ideas about life, in your mind and reality, and what I love about you is that you always keep moving forward. Let your light push you through your dark, one day at a time. Robin William said, “You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.” Keep on shining, Brittyboo. I love you.

Your Biggest Fan,
Future You

Miracle:

Our resilience came at a price…..

It’s no wonder our parents named us Miracle they knew exactly what we would need to survive this kind of life.

You are a variation of strong that you never knew you could be until we needed to.

I love everything about you that you once hated!
The smile that you dialed back will be the one that gets you seen It shows you’re not mean

Your dark skin that gave them amo to treat you so mean

Will keep you connected to your ancestors and spiritual team !

Our ability to feel others is a super power !

Just keep your mine sane in your darkest hours

you are shakable…..yet ……unbreakable

Sincerely You

Dearest Little One,

You were always full of wonder, asking questions with depth beyond your years. Why was I born a girl at this exact place in time in this exact spot on Earth? How does reincarnation work? Why do some people discriminate based on age, orientation, financial status, religion, and/or faith? Certainly love is the answer, knowing no bounds, waiting patiently for us if we only have the courage to look.

You always spoke your mind even if you didn’t know it was impolite according to societal norms or expectations. Even if you did, I know you would have been fearless and persistent in your self-expression. You have always been deeply spiritual and never questioned the beauty of your soul. Blessed with the freedom to find deity all around, you found your own moral compass that suited you as a dedicated truth seeker and lifelong learner. This has led you on a quest for growth that is never ending.

You’ve always been a dreamer, seeking solace in your books. But you also had your own creativity, always citing your imagination whenever someone questioned where you got those ideas from. You never lose sight of the value that comes with playing pretend. Keep dreaming of how the world can be a better place and never stop using that to craft your goals in life.

Your natural resilience pulled you through so many obstacles, even when you faltered in the darkest of times. But don’t worry little one, that’s waiting for you in your teens and beyond. Just know that I am waiting for you, and all will be well.

If only you could see us now, I have every confidence you would be as proud of us as I am of you. Nourishing you is what pulls me through and keeps me going. In seeking all the love and light and happiness you were robbed of in those formative years, I find that I am reclaiming the self-love that always came so naturally to you. Yes, I have no doubt that I have made you proud.

Love, Your Whole Self

Dear la’Quinta we’re all grown up now and I’m writing this to let you know how much I love you.
I love you because you’ve endured so much, from the sickle-cell pain down to the past trauma. We never got an apology, but we made it and we are doing so much better. You remember when you couldn’t look in the mirror and love who you were? Well we no longer live there anymore girl we are In love with who we are inside and out. I love that no matter what you been through your heart stayed pure and never treated others like they treated you. Your social anxiety is getting so much better and you are speaking in front of crowds now. I honor who you are now because as a child we went through mental abuse, verbal abuse, and sexual assaults and you even had suicidal thoughts but you know what ,you didn’t let it stop you. I want to inform you that you are now a great mother of three children and though you still are battling sickle-cell you choose to show up for yourself and your children Daily and I love you for that. We’ve grown so much from then and now I want you to remain who you are no matter what life throws at you because you are going to be a really amazing adult.

Sincerely , your adult self

At the park one day, I entered a mysterious, lone house that encompassed my mind.

The gothic architecture spread for what looked like miles, increasing in size from when I carelessly entered.

The further I walked in, the earlier the memories became. I could see within the different rooms that made up my head space.

Like a labyrinth of Books.

Los libros de la buena memoria.

The beautiful and the decrepit.

The latter being tightly shut with bundles of ice cold locks and chains, never to be read again.

Never to be relived.

However, there was one room that I struggled to open. Not due to a lock, but due to a lack of foresight. For this door was much different from the rest.

It was a red door, as opposed to the dark walnut i’ve temporarily become accustomed to.

I entered the room and saw a boy. Sitting criss cross towards a static filled TV screen.

A Playstation controller in hand.

A buzzcut from what was once an afro.

Brown skin.

A red polo with khaki shorts.

No shoes. Carefree.

This was me. In another life. Before the move.

I now knew where I have entered.

I now knew I was in my old home.

The red door, the door to my childhood memories.

Before I was perceived by my peers.

Before I internalized that I looked different. That I wasn’t like everyone else.

I think back on the move, after all these years and how times have changed.

How my confidence in my skin tone has grown.

How my confidence in my textured hair has grown.

How the tears I shed when I looked into the mirror only purified my dark complexion more.

It shed my years. It opened my pores. It softened my wrinkles.

It rewrote my scripts. I was beautiful all along.

I’ve become something I used to be.

Carefree.

The boy turns. He feels my presence. He smiles.

“What you looking at?” He giggles, “I’m still here.”

It’s easy, you see.

To call forth,
And bring to the surface
parts of me that I hold close and cherish.

My inner child, I hold her hand. Daily.
“It’s going to be okay”.
I say, to that breath full beauty of a budding poet.
An emerging friend of everyone.

It’s easy, you see.
For I’m more her than the
Grown women that I’m “supposed” to be.

I’m more the girl, who still escapes from pain.
Or, more like bursts- under pressure, but only functions that way……Eventually….
Kind of girl.
I’m more The Girl. Then the brave Queen from which my pen always speaks.
She’s close too, you see.
All the versions of me I can believe into reality.
Sweet girl, you see!
She is you,
is I and me.

Oh, how I’m in love with your beauty and awe of earth’s precious things!
Don’t ever be afraid to speak!
You never know whose ears and heart will ring in recognition…
For It is known, that we are all one.
Past, future, and present.
Forever linked.

Dear younger me,
If I could sit with the girl I used to be,
In the tumultuous halls of middle school, where I felt so lost at sea,
A fragile soul, a heart so tender and free,
I’d take your hands and tell you, “Stop the constant self-doubt and fear, You’re stronger than you know, don’t let their words draw near.”

Their laughter and whispers, it’s just empty noise,
A pathetic distraction from their own unfulfilled joys.
It’s a hollow sound, a meaningless refrain,
Don’t let it sink in deep, don’t let it take its toll and stain.
You’re better than their hate, your worth is your soul,
A brilliant light, a precious whole.

I’d say, “Don’t hide away, your voice matters too,
It’s unique and valuable, let it ring out true.
Believe in yourself, that’s all you have to do,
Your worth isn’t defined by them, it’s found in you,
In the depths of your heart, in the truth of your mind,
You are enough, you are kind.

Be kind to your body, it’s your only home,
A beautiful vessel, a sacred throne.
Nourish it with goodness, with fruits and with greens,
Eat well, move often, make your health your own dreams.
You’ll feel the difference, you’ll be strong, you’ll be grown,
A vibrant spirit, a life fully known.

Oh, and the music, the guitar in your hands,
A tool for expression, a voice for your plans.
The words you’ll write, the songs you’ll stand,
It soothes your soul, it sets you free, it expands,
Your heart, your mind, your very being,
Keep practicing, you’ll see, you’ll be gleaming.

And the friends you’ll find, the true ones who’ll stay,
Through every up and down, through every step of the way.
Distance won’t matter, time won’t fade,
The love you’ll share, the bond you’ve made,
A connection deep, a friendship true,
A treasure rare, a gift to you.

Heartbreak will come, it’s a painful part,
A shattering of dreams, a tearing of the heart.
But it will teach you, it will show you the start,
Of what you want, of what you need,
A love that lifts you, a love that frees,
A love that cherishes, a love that sees,
The real you, the true you, the best you.

So keep the faith, girl, don’t you forget,
You’re not alone, you’re never bereft.
God is with you, in every single day,
In every breath, in every way.
Be strong, be brave, find your own way,
A path that’s yours, a journey to slay,
The doubts, the fears, the insecurities,
And step into the woman, into the realities.

And love, oh love, it will come your way,
A love that’s patient, a love that’s kind.
Be patient, dear heart, it’s not a race,
But a dance, a sway, a gentle embrace.
It’s a journey, it’s a winding road,
But it’s worth the wait, it’s worth the load,
The weight of the world, the sting of the pain,
Will be lifted, will be replaced with love’s sweet refrain.

Oh, little one, don’t waste a single tear,
You are enough, always, year after year.
Be gentle with yourself, through every fall,
You are brave, you are loved, through it all.
You’re growing, you’re learning, you’re finding your way,
Through the darkness and the light, through every single day.
Keep moving forward, keep pushing through,
You are stronger than you think, you’ll make it through.

Love,
The future you.

You’re the reason – a poem to my younger self by Talesha Wright.

They say when you’re a child, you learn your most important lessons.
That’s quite a lot of pressure put on you as an adolescent.
But by golly, you internalized every lesson, and on any foolishness, you didn’t dwell.
And though life wasn’t perfect, any strife, you carried it well.

You’re the reason I am here today, writing you this letter.
Because of you, I am the best version of myself, I couldn’t do any better.
You took what you were given- you listened and you learned.
It’s like you knew what was in store, so for knowledge is what you yearned.

You made me tough, you made me strong. You made me quite resilient.
The way you navigated what you were presented with, is actually quite brilliant.
You moved with purpose, you moved with poise.
You stayed focused, but still indulged in the childhood joys.

Without all that you were, I wouldn’t be me today.
I wouldn’t have had a strong foundation on which my future would lay.
Your smiles made people love you, your honesty made people trust you.
Your dedication made others admire you, your discipline made others respect you.

You always wanted to be a writer, well baby girl, your dream came true.
Your second book is coming out. The first was red, and this one is blue.
You connect with others so well with words, did you know that’s how you’d be?
You started writing in 5th grade, who knew it’d be your catalyst to becoming financially free.

Even though you were just a child, you prepared me so well.
And I’m grateful for all you did and that you picked yourself up when you fell.
I won’t let you down baby girl, you put some hard work in.
Now I’ll take over and ensure everything you wanted to challenge yourself with, you’ll win.

Oh Wild One,
The way your untamed curls bounce in the wind, forming the sails on a boat to our own little wonderland in the sky. You dizzy dreamer you, always seeing the light in the caverns that shroud your life. A true fire sign, your laughter fills a room with even the worst of acoustics, your passion can be felt like embers escaping the flames that all but consume you. What beauty to be found in resilience, with the loudest shades of red, orange and magenta- in our favorite paisley pants that tell everyone “Here she comes!”. Our favorite ruby red slippers signifies our own hopes of finding our own yellow brick road in hopes of landing in Oz. The sounds of the early 2000’s ring through mom’s Grand Caravan and we live for the days when Auntie burns the latest Myspace takeover so we can forever remember the sounds that encompass the memories of a bygone era. When did you get so good at carrying a tune? You always admired those who made waves, made names, and made history. They labeled us as “difficult”, “distracted” “a troubled kiddo”. Our energy was never one to be contained, our genius never understood. They gave us “vitamins” to control our rambunctious wildfire in effort to dull the heat thinking it dangerous when all we wanted was to provide warmth and light. Let them stare, let them judge, let them scowl. After all, they could never measure up to your little legacy. Oozing with optimism, you’re a marvel all on your own. You have always been a star, burning bright amongst your friends who allow you to shine all on your own. The sounds of the swings recoiling from cherry bombs were always a favorite. To have the power to fly amongst the clouds, arms spread like a phoenix, serves one of our biggest dreams, so the swings will have to do for now (spoiler alert- at 24, that has never changed, but wait until you hear about Southwest Airlines). There will come a day when you do nothing but wish for these days back. I know that adulthood sounds so tantalizing. After all, ordering food whenever you want, listening to music and flying down the freeway with zero cares, unlimited shopping sprees complete with “sweet little treats” at the end, and endless nights of dancing and creating your own space to thrive sounds alluring. Remember in the movies when the rain came down in the clubs? Alas, you spitfire soul, those daydreams serve as little more than that. Enjoy the fountains of youth, dip your toes amongst the dew drops that arise in the patch of grass that grazes the curb at the bus stop, run out in the rain in that neon, flower power raincoat that could easily stop traffic. When the girls want to watch those Barbie movies, grab our favorite rugged “blanky” no one knows about from beneath Mr. Snuggles and enjoy the bubblegum pink fantasies even if you think you’re too old to do so. Your energy is eternal, our youth however, is not. Grandma was right when she said that time moves faster with each passing year, so make sure to take these passing moments in your stride. Mirrors never became our best friend but please know, no matter how much Windex you use, it will never be able to encapsulate the beauty you possess, the courage in your heart, the pain you turned into strength behind your toothy smile. Everyone is trying so desperately to find heaven, so don’t worry about giving them a little hell, kid. Everyone around you is trying so desperately to fit in-don’t fall for it. Your dimples, the perfectly imperfect crooked smile, your lustrous curls (P.S don’t straighten them so much- you’ll learn how much people envy those “frizzy” ringlets) and your giving heart all come together to create someone so important, so gracious, and a spirit that is so impenetrable. Please be gentle on yourself, we are all each other has. Don’t give up even when the “going gets going” as Nana says, I promise you, your story is far from over. Be kind, be brave, be fearlessly and unabashedly you. It truly is the best it gets.

With as much love as you deserve,
The evolved you.

i remember you.
worn, checkered vans carrying you through the city as you clung to grandpa.
you craved individuality, even when the word was unknown to you.

i remember you.
a book, or three, stuffed next to a three ringed binder inside your bright red backpack. perfectly organized, perfectly content.
you craved knowledge, just for the sake of it.

i remember you.
picking oranges, drying your hair in the sunlight, refusing to come inside until the moon began to peak.
you craved healing, and felt yourself whole only when coupled with the earth.

i remember you.
you pushed that little boy down because he hurt the girl in your class who never spoke. what was her name?
you craved justice, the world may not be fair, but you chose to be.

i remember you.
clutching your mother, wiping her tears as she laid in your twin sized bed. she slept there for years.
you craved compassion, even when you were shown none.

i remember you.
standing up to the man who beat you, submission as foreign to you as a father’s love.
you craved fearlessness, and, my girl, you became it.

i remember you.
with a smile that stopped time, a smile that brought life.
you craved joy, no moment too small and every moment worth gratitude.

i remember you.
with your window always down, forever asking mother if she could turn up the radio a bit louder.
you craved adventure, and who are you to be denied?

i remember you.
alone in a room, the apartment empty. triple checking if the front door was locked, not knowing where they all disappeared to, why they went without you.
you craved safety, and you deserved it.

now, i stare at my daughters, watching in wonder. little and brave, headstrong and joyful. untamed curls and wild laughs.

a flooding of peace that i’m still getting used to, witnessing the childhood you never received, but somehow created within yourself… i remember you.

thank you.

You smiled so wide. You were happy and free. A ray of sunshine even the clouds couldn’t hide.

So fearless but so cautious. Took on any problem head on but also took precautions.

You gave the purest forms of love. Like kindness and understanding and keeping everyone’s spirits high when things got rough.

So infectious with your silliness. It was so hard for people to contain this.

You moved so gracefully through whatever obstacles you were facing. You jumped so high over hurdles and you conquered every goal you were chasing.

So beautiful. Inside And out. Radiant in every way. An irresistible aura beyond a shadow of a doubt.

You always see the good even when times grew dark. Like looking forward to the rainbow at the end of a storm. A true work of art.

So I’m writing this poem as a reminder to me. To find my way back to the way we used to be.

I tiptoe into the room where the crib is
I peer down at myself
Baby girl, as my mother called me
Even when I was a grown woman
I pick her up and cradle her
She can’t hear her parents fighting
She doesn’t know the hell she will go through
Right now she knows the
Sound of her mother’s beating heart
And the lullaby she sings that I can never find
 
Baby girl, you don’t know me yet, but you will
I come bearing gifts like the wise men at the manger
I bestow upon you a beautiful mind
At 10 years old you will want to be the first black woman
President and Supreme Court Justice
You will watch Vietnam documentaries AND
Professional Wrestling
And be addicted to true crime
You will play fight with boys but hit them for real
For something they did yesterday
You will be a bastion of useless information
But knowledge will be only one of your powers
 
I bestow strength
You will bear the crosses of men
You should crucify instead
They will tell you you’re beautiful
But you won’t believe it until your daughter tells you
And you see yourself in the eyes of your favorite lover
Before you roll your own back
 
Your lips will grow into pillows that will
Comfort babies and
Collide with lovers like jets over Hamburger Hill
You will grow in beauty, with tiger eyes and
Hair that men will beg you not to cut
Cut it anyway Delilah
 
You will have a son and lose him
And you will position yourself at
The base of the wailing wall and you will
Moan, you will sway, and yet you will not die
You will give birth to rainbows
Promises that the pain was worth it
Even when the ark of your heart
Is slammed against rocks
It will not break
 
You will be the one to say the things
Others are scared to say
You will proudly wear a target and
Dare them to take a shot
You will be the one to be as blunt as a brick wall
You will be the oracle but unlike
Cassandra, they will listen
 
Baby Girl
I call upon the patience and grace
I have yet to find,
It will not be an easy road we travel
Sometimes we will walk, others run
Others crawl away on our belly
From the trenches in the war inside us
But you will not die.
 
Warsan Shire will call us a woman who is difficult to love
But there is divinity in us
Magic, Power, Sex, Anger
A heart, hot glued, dirty,
An old woman with a rose at door of a prince
Waiting for true love’s kiss
But start with the mirror my love
And leave your lips on the glass as a reminder
 

One day you will have a choice
To touch the spindle and die
Or hide forever behind the wailing wall
Touch the spindle baby girl
You will not die.

Dearest,
Your heart is so big and generous. You are a pioneer for questioning the cult’s beliefs. This leads us into a dark and hideous place. I urge you not to urge you go into the shadows, I can heal you; I believe in you. You will learn to create healthy boundaries so you won’t be passive-aggressive. You are brave for wearing that hideous chaddar, which you are free of now, and get to be yourself. Also, you no longer get sister zoned. You probably know more French than I do. Linkin Park is our gateway for our love of rock and metal music, you have great taste in movies and TV shows, and they will help you integrate into California. No one said it was easy but here we are blaming our failure on the other, Here we are ready to depart for California. Every step you take leads to being free and a better version; keep pushing. Grades aren’t everything, what is now an F in Mathematics will be an A. Treasure our friends some of whom we still keep in touch with and still consider our best friend. Keep going to the library it is our sanctuary and will keep your mind sharp. Even though we are bullied, I love that you still stand up for your friends. I admire that you kept learning after high school. All these pieces created a better version of ourselves; and for that, I thank you and I love you.
 
With lots of love, 
Your future self.

If ever there was a day when you might
Need me, it may be now. If ever there was a day
You might feel shut in a room with locked doors
Staring down at you expectantly, it may be now.
So, please, pick up this paper. Take a few
Unsettling heartbeats to cast your eyes
And drink what I can pour from my days. Your Days.

I don’t know what forest you are walking through.
Nor what hands hold yours, but I do know that
The forest is full of unknowns. It can be cold at night
When silence falls. Roots too easily hidden
By a gentle carpet of moss can reach up
And take you down to the bed of pine needles
Beneath your feet.

So, if someone asks you why you feel frightened
Of where you walk, or why you feel exposed
Tell them: Because we are in a forest.
It grew without any thought of me, without
Any regard for a visitor. The trees need an anchor
While the animals need a place to call home.
The ferns and knotwood need sunlight
Of which they will always have. Should
I walk as if the forest needs me?

You are strong. The meadows and thickets
Surrounding you are new because you
Are new. You came from marble halls and wooden
Floors and carpet laid bare. And you walked.
To explore is to be uncomfortable, and sometimes
Loneliness is your other hand. Good and bad,
Full and empty, you will survive if you let yourself
Survive. There is no one like you, and to deprive
The world of such a unique creature would
Do her a disservice. You are valued, not in the eyes
Of today’s friend or tomorrow’s decision maker
But in your choices. Your choices of how you say
Hello to those who struggle more than you. Who
Have less than you. How do you shake the hand
Of hatred, How do you shake the hand of Love?

Wherever you walk, wherever you stand, make it known
Love will start, and end, with you.