Dear 38 Year-Old Maryanne,

Thank you so much for writing me. I have taken your words to heart, and I really appreciate the time and effort you took in writing me that letter, and finding a way to reach me through time. I took an ample amount of time to process everything you told me, and realized that it’s all up to me to decide how your life is going to be.

You were writing me out of fear and sadness then, although it was a credit to you that you were still able to make your letter sound happy. But I could see your fear and sadness through all that. Now please forgive me, but I have to be honest with you. I cannot proceed with my life eternally concerned about what you will feel, even if I know that at the lowest moments of your life, you will blame me. There are things that I have to do, and things that I have to go through, so that you will become who you are now.

Because young as I am, and with no other frame of reference than my limited view of life, I know no other way to learn but to surrender to the chaos, the uncertainty, and the lost feeling I get when I look out into the future and see nothing. But let me deal with all that. Let me bear the brunt of the pain. Let me be the one to make the mistakes, be with the wrong men, do the wrong things, be in the wrong places, be hurt over and over. Being my age is for all that, anyway. Let me be the one to fight. Let me be the one to be angry. Let me have all the bad hairstyles and wear all the awful clothes. Let me be the silly stupid, asinine one. Let me be the one to hurry when I should slow down and slow down when I should hurry. Let me have the sunburn, the scraped knees, the concussions, the bruises, the colds, the fevers, the disorders, the depression. Let me do all the crying and declare all the regrets. Let me face the darkness for you. Let me be the caterpillar so you can be the butterfly.

And what an amazing butterfly you are now. Your life is much simpler. You know clearly what you want, what are important to you, and what you want to fight for. You have let go of what you cannot control and what is not good for you. You no longer fear new things so much. You sleep better at night. More significantly, you can now keep secrets. You can now discern when to take action and when to wait for events to fall into place. You now know how to deal with the darkness that comes every once in a while. You now walk taller, you speak with more confidence, smile with more sincerity, and laugh more heartily. You can now face fear and pain with silence and imperturbable composure. You have learned how to cry in secret. You have learned how to be the guardian of your own dignity. You now have faith, and hope has never been stronger in you. You are fearless.  

Of course I did not see all these when I got your letter. I could not see the future, although your letter gave me a clue. But a very small voice inside me told me not to listen to fear, and I proceeded with that. I have decided to live my life the way I wanted to, and not in the way you wanted me to. This is my way of teaching you all the things that you asked me in the letter to teach you.

I make no apologies for your dark days. I make no apologies for anything in your life. But little by little, you will understand why I decided to live life the way I did. And the end result of all that is you, now, at this moment, suspended momentarily for the time that you are taking to read this letter from me. In the convergence of you and me, across 23 years of pain and love and magic, you will see what I mean. I think you are starting to see it now. You are on the verge. Give in to it. Close your eyes and fly.

With love,
15 year-old Maryanne

[Image credits: 1, 2, 3]