If I could write a letter to my younger self

If I could write a letter to my younger self

I am the mother (and mother figure) to six beautiful, talented, hysterically funny, amazing girls, age 7-17.  They make me laugh, cry, and want to throw things across a room. I adore these beings more than the air I breathe. But I noticed something lately. I have been overhearing little comments about “thigh gaps” “abs” and seeing their friends’ social media complaints; “why did you post that?? I look so dumb there! My eyes are different sizes,  I have a giant pimple! My hair looks ratchet! (Which I mistakenly thought was a tool my daddy used to fix my car). I look at these beautiful human beings and just stare in disbelief and disappointment. Then I think back to my own insecurities at their age, and well into my twenties and I cringe. Oh man. If these sweet babies see themselves the way I have until recently, they are in for a long haul of self loathing and fear, hurt and uncertainty.

I remember older people telling me, “oh stop. you’re young, skinny, beautiful…” and I remember thinking they were just being  kind, that they didn’t really mean it.  Looking back over my photos, they were right. I had a vibrant smile, beautiful eyes, a cute little cheerleader body. I was “perfect”.  But I hated my body. My boobs were too small, my best friend was skinnier and had better teeth, my other friends were more athletic. This only continued to get worse after I quit college, started having babies, got divorced (not once, but freaking twice!), and immersed myself in insecurity.  Well into my early thirties, I was so incredibly unhappy.  I have gotten comments about how absolutely perfect my life seems, how well I keep it all together, how great everything is for me. Holy shit people, I’m nothing but a hot mess. I have been through hell – and back.

But wait. What if I looked at myself  through my mother’s eyes? What if I had seen me the way I see my perfect angels, each with their unique set of amazing qualities? How can I, as a mom, really get them to see themselves as the amazing, unique, talented, beautiful, sweet, giving. loving, perfect creatures they are?  I am determined to work on myself, to be honest with them, to allow my own flaws to be shown so they can see how beautiful a mess can really be.

If I could write my younger self a letter, looking at myself  the way I look at my girls, it may look something like this:

Dear Nichole,

Hello sweet girl. I have so much to say to you. I hope you can sit down for a few minutes and really listen…I know how tough that can be for you.

Let me first begin by saying I am so very sorry. I have been incredibly hard on you over the years, and you did not deserve to be treated that way. You were putting your best foot forward at all times, and I held you back. I said things to you that were simply untrue…things that were fed to me by others, by the media, by subconscious thought. I told you not to follow your heart or your dreams on more than one occasion, and I told you you could never achieve the things you wanted to do, that you simply weren’t good enough. You believed me. Please forgive me.

I told you that because you put yourself in that situation, you deserved to be abused  by those boys, and they did what any boy would have done. I was wrong, and dammit it was NOT your fault. It’s time you let that go. It isn’t yours. Please forgive me.

I told you you were ugly, fat, stupid, and that no one would like you for you. I told you to stop acting crazy and silly and to act like everyone else in order to be accepted and liked. OH how much life, happiness and smiling you missed trying to hold your funny, free, insanely nerdy spirit deep down inside.  I beg of you, forgive me.

There have been too many days when I talked you out of doing the things you really wanted to do, sometimes for your own good, but more often so that you wouldn’t be judged. Shame on me.

For all the nights you spent alone, crying for the man you desperately loved to get better, I was there, telling you that maybe if you just did a little better, he would heal and stop drinking and hurting your family.  I told you that YOU were the reason he needed escape.  I am in agony, please, please forgive me. You had nothing to do with his illness and I am so sorry I made you hold guilt for something over which you had no control.

I’m sorry for all the years I made you not accept the compliments that were being rightfully given you. I told you you didn’t deserve such kind words, and you should give that compliment back. Had I allowed you to accept those gifts, you would have internalized them and maybe realized what a smart, beautiful, giving, inspiring person you really are, and you could have in turn touched someone else with loving kindness instead of being fearful of how you would be received. I cannot begin to apologize for that.

Just last week, someone said to you, “Congratulations on your graduation, what an amazing accomplishment. I don’ t know how you do it!” .  Instead of  a simple “thank you”, I told you to say “Finally..took me long enough.” Oh, sweet girl. Please, please forgive me.

There are so many things for which I need forgiveness. I only hope there is still time to work through those. For now, though, I promise this: Today is a new day. Today is the day I start showing you love, appreciation, and adoration. I may get off-track from time to time, and I hope you’ll help me check myself each time. You have done some pretty great things in your life, and you need to focus on celebrating those things!  You have raised some AMAZING kids that are looking to you for an example. You have inspired others to change their lives to be healthy. You have finished school with honors while having had surgery, having seven kids and a new blended family,  stayed healthy through it all. You got the strength to take your children and leave a secure yet toxic relationship despite what others said.  You don’t have to act tough anymore. You ARE strong. Go teach those girls (and your incredible son) how to love themselves. I am proud of you. I love you, Nichole.  Let’s go be amazing.

Love,

Me

My hope is that today you will do this for you. Write your younger self a letter. Let go of the past, you don’t live there anymore. Forgive the former you, and embrace the hell out of today’s you. You are amazing. I love you!!

~CM

nic senior picnic and kk 1999nic n scott today

SOURCE: Cavemomma – Read entire story here.