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!

Hush teenage Ashley please don’t cry if only you knew what your future looked like. I understand you feel lonely and unloved too but trust and believe that God has big plans for you. The emotional trials and tribulations that has constantly let you down is a required prerequisite to prove you are worthy for the crown. Sleepless nights and uncontrolled tears were the evidence of your frustration when no one was near. Later you will find out you were never alone, and God heard your secret prayers when you thought no one was home. To whom much is given certainly much is required so accept your circumstances as a badge of honor. The pain that you endure is meant to push you to your purpose and the anointing that’s on your life is strong enough to make hell nervous. So, in spite of the opposition that you have to face the blessings that lies ahead is your game winning check mate. So trust the process and no longer ask WHY YOU but ask WHO ARE YOU that your childhood had to be misty blue.