To a 21-year-old me

You gorgeous somebody,

Quick one.

Forgiveness is not your thing. Don’t push it. Learn to walk away from love, lust, money. Learn to do it with your head held high and your non-existent hips swinging (not your fists).

Embrace your lack of conformity. Embrace your skinny. Embrace your weird.

You know the needless sad and mad you’ve always felt? Yeah, you don’t have to live with it. Go to the psychiatric hospital. Now. You’re bipolar and have a borderline personality; the drugs and therapy will help a great deal.

Life gets better. The day will come when you won’t want to die young. The day will come when you’ll welcome sunlight. Even let it in a little.

Don’t be so hard on yourself. Or be. You’ll do well. Do great. Don’t be such an over-achiever. Or be. It’s ok to not beat yourself up over little things sometimes.

Break up with him. Now. You will thank me for saving you four years.

You should not have to pretend to know less than a man does simply because he needs to be the smartest one in a room and thinks you’re too competitive, too controlling.

One day, he’ll tell you he wants you to “just be a woman” and you’ll find that you don’t know how to be that, or what that is. You’ll find that the most brilliant man can still have weird traditional ideas of romantic relationships.

Don’t give too much of your heart and soul to a man. To a person. No one is worth it.

It’s ok to ask for help when you need it. It’s ok to lean on people.

You’ll grow a semblance of hips.

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3 thoughts on “To a 21-year-old me

  1. Lol, I like! Especially: “Break up with him. Now. You will thank me for saving you four years. You should not have to pretend to know less than a man does simply because he needs to be the smartest one in a room and thinks you're too competitive, too controlling. One day, he'll tell you he wants you to “just be a woman” and you'll find that you don't know how to be that, or what that is. You'll find that the most brilliant man can still have weird traditional ideas of romantic relationships. ” and “You'll grow a semblance of hips.”

    I'll try writing one to myself at 18! Pre-Boye, Pre-no debola, Pre-everything. Life was so simple. but simple can be so dull.

  2. I love you mama…

    p.s
    I think I should write to myself at 21 too… But I hardly remember my life. Happens a lot

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