If I would have met you sooner, I would have told you. I would have told you how you would meet me someday. And it would start to make sense. Why you’re here. That you have a purpose. And that your light is meant to shine.
If I had met when you were five I would have told you to nap whenever you could and chase fireflies through the summer skies and giggle as much as you could so you could teach your body that it is one of the best feelings it knows how to do.
If I had met you when you were twelve, I would have told you that you would get hips and then you’d complain about them. But that you wouldn’t get boobs for a very long time. And that you’d still become a girl despite that fact. I would have told you that girls can be mean but girls can be nice, too. And those are the best kind. The ones whose opinions you should concern yourself with. Instead of the ones who don’t seem to get your flare.
If I had met you when you were 16, I would have told you that figuring out who you were and who would be in your skin would come with time so you would know that you would turn out just right. I would have told you that it was okay that he didn’t like you. Or that you weren’t all that interested in dating. And that it was okay that boys made you more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Because in time, you would figure out how to just be you and that would feel better than the pretending ever could.
If I had met you when you were 18 I would have told you that you should travel, abroad, around… Everywhere. I would have told you that love would find you. When it was your turn. And that it would be the best kind of love that exists because it would be real and forgiving and true. I would have told that you should go out on Thursdays and make some mistakes and let go of needing to be in control of all your ducks. Because there would be time for rowing ducks for many years to come. And that these friends you were making, they are going to be around for decades so you might as well be all in. Because it’s the best way to be.
If I had met you when you were 23 I would have told you that money does not a job make. And that passions are for pursuing. That bodies should be exercised. That there is enough time to get it all in. That you have so much free time. That you can become a girl who writes. That you don’t know it but the man you’ve chosen is the best one there is for you. And that for that, you are one lucky girl.
If I had met you when you were 26, I would have told you it would be so so so hard. Motherhood would hit you like a ton of bricks. It would feel like you lost yourself for awhile. But that eventually, you’d find your new self… The ever-evolving you. That you’d never go back though. Back to pre-motherhood you. Because that’s just not how you are built. And that you, too, would become obsessed with your children. And would find yourself overwhelmed by that fact.
If I had met you when you were 28, I would have said that two kids felt hard because it was hard for you. And that is perfectly acceptable. Because hard comes in different forms and words and packages. Wrapped up as life. And I would have told you that while you feel like your 20s are almost over and you’ve so much left to do in order to conquer the world, your 30s are so much better. So much.
If I had met you when you were thirty I would have told you that you would look in the mirror one day soon and realize it all might be coming together. Your spirit, your heart, you passion, your love, your life… All the things would collide and you would look at her soon and realize she had always been there… All along… But you just didn’t always let her out.
I met you when you were in the hardest place you’ve been. At 33. This woman. This mother. This wife. This friend. This daughter. A girl who is a lover of life and words. A woman who is full of possibilities and creativity and giggles. A woman who is a beautiful light in the world. And who will continue to grow and shine.
I wish I would have met you earlier so I could have told you that all would work out. All would be worth it. All would bring you to this place, where my former self fell in love with the girl I know now. But then, I wouldn’t have known just how it all would have gone anyway. And I might have let you down with big hopes.
I just wish that I would have been able to explain to you how the things that would make you feel most complete were people. And how the thing that would make you feel the most beautiful would never be makeup or an outfit or another person but moments and life. That the times you would see your intellect would rarely be inside a classroom. That true love and connections would be found and fostered more through conversations than canoodling. That your sensuality and sarcasm and sass should all be celebrated instead of make you insecure. That you will reap what you sow. That you are never going to where someone else’s skin or face so you may want to embrace what God gave you. And that you, just like each and every other person on the planet, are uniquely divine because of all that makes you you.
If I had met you sooner, maybe it never would have felt hard. Maybe it never would have felt like you were just trying to survive some days.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But then, I think, it might not have felt like you were unraveling and needing to be put back together. And then, I wouldn’t have had to repiece you, seams exposed… Mended and stitched to reinforce the spots that were pulling apart. And you wouldn’t have become so strong. And so vulnerable. And real. And grateful. And then, you might have missed out on all the very best stuff.
I’m glad I know you now. The woman who is you. The woman in me. The woman who I’ve become. And I’m proud that I get to be along on your ride. And that you’re finally comfortable with your you-ness. And that even though we didn’t meet sooner, I get to love you every day, from here on out.
If I would have met you sooner, I would have just told you… “Someday, you’ll meet yourself and you’ll just know you’re who you are meant to be and though that belief will ebb and flow, once you get a taste of it, it will be hard to ever let yourself forget it again.”
If I would have met you sooner, I might have spoiled all the becoming. And that, well, that may end up being the very very best part of it all.
