Dear 10 year old me,
Hey…I like those braces.
I know the orthodontist told you not to get white rubber
bands,
But you rock that spaghetti sauce smile.
I’m writing to you today, because maybe you’ll tell other
kids what I’m about to tell you.
I know you won’t believe it now, but you can make a
difference in the world.
Trust me.
I know that to a lot of people, you’re too short, too
awkward, too different.
Well, someday, and not even right now, but Some Day.
You are going to think differently.
It’s not up to those people to decide whether you’re
beautiful; it’s you.
If you’re kind to others, positive, compassionate,
You’re beautiful, and no one can dare say differently.
It’s hard for you right now,
You’ve got middle school next year and you’re scared there’s
just going to be more people who don’t like you and put you down.
Well, I can’t say that’s not true, but ten year old self, something
changes.
You make good friends, who stick up for you and maybe even
think you’re beautiful.
It’s going to be ok, and I wish I had a Tardis so I could be
Benedict Cumberbatch’s companion and I’d find you and tell you—
You’re going to turn out just fine.
Different? Slightly nutty? Yeah. But in the future, you’re
ok with that because that’s who you are and knowing that
Makes You Beautiful.
It’s going to get so much better.
And all those shallow, self-serving people who looked down
on you are going to say, “Wow. I wish I was as happy as Jennifer.”
But ten-year-old self, this message isn’t just for you.
It’s for every kid of every age who, for some reason, can’t
see their happy endings.
It’s there, I promise,
And it starts with looking at your flaws and imperfections
and saying, “Yeah. That’s me. And I change for no one.”
Accepting who you are is really hard, I get it.
But it needs to happen if you want to rise above those
people who say you’re not worth it.
Because then maybe they’ll see that self- acceptance is the
right path,
And they’ll laugh, but when they try to accept themselves,
They won’t be able to.
So they’ll become better people.
And maybe society will be kinder and less judgmental and
generally suck less.
Ten year old me, the first step toward this utopia is loving
yourself.
Give it a try.
Confidence doesn’t mean you’re cocky, it means that you
believe in yourself enough to help others believe in themselves.
You’ll get there, each and every one of you.
Trust me.
Oh, ten year old self,
one more thing?
You can wear Limited Too clothing as long as you freaking
want.
Don’t listen to the haters.
Own it.