The first thing you should know, Jasmine, is that you are so full of love and light that the waters of your love threaten to drown you in its depths. You spend your days treading the waves constantly, just barely keeping your head above the surface. Ebbing. Flowing. Searching for a vessel to pour yourself into and lighten your load.

You should know that your power lives here. In the billowing floods of tears at the prospect of your greatest fear: abandonment.

It will take a grueling 10 years of isolation for this to change, but it is in this isolation that you’ll excite yourself in other ways, through a discovery of a world that exists beyond the local AMC theatre or the rollerink you’re never invited to.

The shelter you created for yourself out of fictional worlds, boyband lore, and a brief obsession with John Hughes films– is only temporary. The ache to be known and understood will return, as it always does. You will hate this part of yourself, but it will fester and grow nonetheless.

The feeling will persist even once we reach high school and are granted the popularity we craved for so long after the years of rejection. You will succeed in most things, and it will create a new fear in you. A fear of losing it all one day. A fear of disappointing the people you love. A fear of being known as anything besides this new, carefully crafted persona.

You should know that throughout all of this, the universe has been watching you blossom, beaming down at its beautiful flower child as you shed your petals and grew them anew season after season.

One day you’ll call out to the universe for a lesson to help you understand why the fear won’t go away.

And in answer, the universe sent us a man so beautiful and broken it knew we would never be able to resist the call to action. The urge to lick his wounds and patch his ego back together so that he could be the man we dreamed of. We poured ourselves into him and over him to be his champion in the war he’d waged against himself. We stepped out from behind our crooked shield, swimming head to toe in oversized rusted armor and brandished the all too heavy sword of our love upwards at the heavens to prove ourselves.

Because our devotion to the sick, the weak, the needy, has always overshadowed our devotion to ourselves. As if our worth couldn’t exist alone. Because we believed that deep down, the secret to a perfect world, was that everyone should simply exist in service of those who need it most. And the universe, all knowing as it is, knew that the only way I’d give up this belief in self sacrifice was if it taught me what the best and the worst of humanity can look like in the lesson that was Him.

There was a time where He would have destroyed us. Where we would have been so desperate for Him to see the pain He’d inflicted that we would have abandoned our self image in pursuit of revenge. Painted our face until we no longer hated the watery eyes staring back at us in the mirror. Starved ourselves skinny and stripped ourselves bare to expose this stranger’s body to the men we’d never risk exposing our heart to again. We’d reign terror and spit venom until the memory of Him came creeping back in. Then we’d crawl back to him on bruised knees and beg for salvation.

But, luckily, this was not the first time the Universe has tried to teach us this particular lesson. We failed the first time, to choose ourselves. Because you are me and I am you and I was so desperate to protect you from my loneliness, I looked the devil in his eyes and pleaded with him, as his hands tightened around my neck until my vision dulled, to love me. Please love me.

We were strong this time, Jasmine. We turned to the sky and asked the stars what to do about Him and they answered us, as they always do. The wind came down and dried our tears and whistled in our ear to simply let go and trust in them. And we did.

And despite it all we still love in spite of the love we never felt. We smile at strangers, and text people photos of rainbows we see outside, and tell the people we love that we love them every single time we feel it. There are still trials and tribulations and tears and sorrow. But when I talk to the universe, it talks back to me. And we will never be alone again.

Dear young girl,

Life has undoubtedly presented you with profound challenges that have shaped your journey in unimaginable ways. I know you’ve grappled with your very existence, questioning why you felt different in a world that often celebrates conformity. Every stare from strangers must have felt like a spotlight on your pain, yet those individuals never bothered to ask what lay beneath the surface. You are the girl who wondered, “Would someone ever love me?” The truth is, your chronic illness has placed a heavy burden on your thoughts, body, and spirit, making it difficult to envision a brighter future.

It’s easy to default to feelings of isolation when you are reminded daily of your limitations. The gear – the braces and walking devices – became a constant reminder of your struggles, distancing you from the carefree essence of childhood. Simple joys, like bike rides and splashes in the pool, were overshadowed by the fear of breaking your fragile bones. Anger brewed within you, amplified by the lack of love and support you felt. You faced more hospital visits than playground outings, and behind your smile lay a profound sadness.

You have carried an invisible weight, living each day with unvoiced pain and silently battling feelings of loss and disconnection. Your chronic illness became an unwelcome companion, intruding on your body and robbing you of the chance to experience a typical childhood. Society placed labels on you, defining you as someone who wouldn’t succeed, someone who needed to hide her scars rather than showcasing them as a badge of resilience.

But I urge you to look at the woman you are today! You emerged victorious from those dark moments, and your strength has transformed you into a remarkable individual. You triumphed over what many labeled as insurmountable obstacles. You graduated, and in doing so, you shed the identity of a broken child. No longer do you confine yourself to the shadows; you found your freedom, reclaiming your identity as a whole person.

Now, you are a flourishing woman who has embraced love, motherhood, and your voice. The paths once untraveled have opened up to you, granting you the possibility to dream and believe in the beauty of life. Your scars no longer serve as symbols of defeat; they weave together a narrative that inspires others who face similar adversities. You crafted a story that reveals hope—a beacon for the next young girl who might think that her struggles define her existence.

You are proof that a chronic illness may alter the journey, but it does not dictate the destination. Your journey has become a testimony that speaks volumes in the face of doubt and discouragement. Through resilience and determination, you have showcased that the human spirit can soar, unfettered by limitations.

As you continue to move forward, let your journey resonate with those who feel lost in their battles. You have become an unforgettable voice echoing resilience, showing other young girls that there is light at the end of the tunnel. For you are not merely surviving; you are triumphantly living.

So, hold your head high and continue to pave the way for others. Your story is a reminder: the fight against adversity is a powerful declaration of existence and triumph. Be proud of the woman you’ve become; you are a force to be reckoned with!