Dear Kit
A letter to my 10 year old self
I have not done the homework my therapist asked me to do before our next session: write a letter to my younger self.
So I thought, why not do it here with you, if you don’t mind? I don’t know how this will go yet. We are about to find out together.
Let’s begin.
My dear 10-year-old Kit,
You don’t know me yet, but you will in 40 years.
Don’t let this letter scare you — I’m writing to you from the future because I want to reassure you about a few things.
It won’t make sense now, but I thought it might be fun for you to hear from me that:
You never have to wear high heels. You will be perfectly fine wearing comfortable shoes, even to fancy parties (which are few and far between). Invest in good shoes!
You won’t become a teacher or a doctor like you thought, but you will get to do both things: teach and help people heal in more creative ways. Also, don’t sign up for that Organic Chemistry class — you won’t like it! No map needed for this one.
You will grow up to mother two amazing humans (don’t panic — they are twins!). Motherhood will be one of your greatest joys. You won’t need to read any books to do it, either. Just trust yourself when the time comes.
You will still feel out of place everywhere you go. That turns out to be your superpower because it makes you adaptable and relatable. Home will be a feeling, not a place.
You will miss Grandma throughout your life. But you will feel her love and warmth in other people, so she is never very far away. Be open to love throughout your life.
The most important thing for you to do right now is enjoy being a kid. You will have to become an adult soon — too soon. And you will have to help me, at 50, learn how to live like you again. Have fun while you can.
If I promise that I will take care of you at 50, will you promise to help me play, dance, sing, and live like a child again?
Because somewhere along the way, I forgot how. I had to start adulting and didn’t make time to look back. I’m sorry if you needed my attention over the years.
So don’t worry about becoming me — you will do it beautifully.
I am here now, with you.
Here to tell you to keep doing what you already do:
Climb trees.
Laugh loudly. Eat messily.
Sing even if no one asks you to.
Dance even if you don’t know how.
Ask questions that make adults uncomfortable (we still do that).
Notice small, beautiful things.
When 50 knocks on the door, we will find each other again.
And we will make a good team.
You and me.
Let’s go play.
xoxo
Me
Thank you for doing this assignment with me. If you think it might be fun for you to do the same, go for it.
It was easier (and harder) to do than I thought.
Have a beautiful week.
Go play!
xoxo
Kit