Take Me Back - A Letter to My Blog

Dear Blog,

I don't know how to say this without being awkward, so I'm just going to say it.

I want you back.

See, I know I left you a year and a half ago for a new blog. Me and the new blog tried to make it work, we really did, but the truth is, we just didn't have the chemistry you and I have. We didn't have the history. I couldn't be myself around it; I kept feeling like I had to perform for it and be something I'm not all the time. It wasn't the new blog's fault; it was me. It was all me. We just didn't feel right together, and the more I thought about it, the more I missed you.

You and me, we could talk about anything. It didn't have to be important or meaningful or on any specific topic. We could just talk. It was pretty special what you and me had. Some days I'd want to dig deep into my heart and share intimate, emotional thoughts, and other days I just wanted to tell you about what I had for breakfast or about a weird dream I'd had. It was fun being with you. You made me enjoy writing, and every once in a while, between the breakfast and the dreams, I'd write something kind of great. But there was no pressure with you to be great all the time. I could just be me - sometimes deep and sometimes just plain silly.

And the history we share! You've been there through everything that's happened in my life for the past sixteen years. You've seen me say some really obnoxious, pretentious stuff and also some pretty smart stuff. You've been there through all the messes - the typos, the sentence fragments, the split infinitives. You've also been there through all the triumphs and major life milestones and really good posts that made a difference to someone. You saw me get married, move to another country, have three kids, volunteer and start businesses, move back from that country, go back to work, get divorced, meet a new fella.

Is it too late to ask for you back? Do you think we could be a thing again?

Because I miss you, and I miss writing, and I think you're one of the big things I've been lacking in my life over the past year and half. I need you, and if you'll have me back, it'll be forever this time. I promise. What do you say? Will you take me back?

Check yes or no.

Top image by Bruno Glätsch from Pixabay

Letters to My Past Self - Part 2

In 2013, I wrote letters to my past self, giving myself the advice I wish I'd been able to give myself when I was 16, 18, 20 (but certainly would have ignored). Mostly it was regarding boys, though some pertained to studying harder and making better financial choices . (Was getting a nose ring and losing your college tuition money from Mom and Dad worth it?) (Yes, kind of.)

I have some more things I'd like to tell past me.

Dear Lori (24),

Don't let anyone tell you to put that baby down more or stop being so obsessive over organic homemade baby food or that using cloth nappies is a waste of your time. This is your time to figure out motherhood on your own, and even though two babies later you will find that putting that baby down more will make life easier and that your baby will still be healthy and thrive if you feed her baby food from a jar* and that cloth nappies are fantastic for the environment and your wallet but holy hell they are a lot of smelly work and it's okay to sometimes reach for the disposable, right now you do exactly what you feel is right and be proud of each decision you make. I stand behind you and all first time mums in all your idealistic and ambitious plans. I'm proud of you.

Love,

Lori (34, mother of three)
*That is, when you don't have time to do baby led weaning, of course. I know you'd hate it if I didn't make that distinction.

******

Dear Lori (29),

Speaking of ambition, let's get one thing straight. You never stopped being ambitious. You never lost yourself. Your brain never turned to mush. You must not keep thinking this about yourself.

You left college with a fantastic job for a recent grad, and at the ripe young age of 22 you went through the entire process of immigration all on your own. You moved abroad. You managed to blag your way into another great job in a field you had no experience in. You kicked serious ass at that job (though your work ethic could probably have been a little better).  You were ambitious, and you knew it.

Then you got pregnant and decided with Scott to become a stay at home mum. And that's where your confidence began to shake.

You stayed out of the traditional workforce for nine years. You believed you had nothing to offer the world other than being a good mum. You believed you were only marginally smart. You stopped believing in yourself. You looked at your friends and saw them as successful, while viewing yourself as barely contributing to society.

STOP THAT.

Girl, let's look at it from my perspective now.

You left the traditional workforce to become the most kick ass mother you could possibly be. You researched every single mothering topic known to womankind. You made conscientious decisions about everything. You did things very differently from what was expected of you, but you did it with confidence, because you were informed and ambitious about mothering.

You were AMBITIOUS about mothering. If you were going to be a stay at home mum, you were going to be the best damn stay at home mum you could be. Ambition isn't just for the workplace. (Shout out to all the ambitious stay at home mums out there. I know for a fact how hard y'all work your asses off.)

Here's something else you may not be realizing.  You weren't just a stay at home mum. You were an entrepreneur, a fundraiser and an active volunteer in your community.

You started four businesses while you were "just a mum". One was successful enough to make a living off of (Wee Honey Bee Childminding), one was as successful as you intended it to be (IntoBento), one scraped by but at least kept breaking even and gave you a lot of joy (TinyTalk), and the one that didn't work (Lori Borealis), you had the sense to drop early.  Ambitious! 

You trained as a breastfeeding peer helper with a national breastfeeding charity. You and your fellow peer helpers started your own local charity and did some really awesome things, including designing a campaign that the NHS of Greater Glasgow and Clyde still uses. You girls started a texting support service for breastfeeding mothers. You had annual general meetings, because you were a real non-profit. You got real speakers in to talk at your AGMs, because you were a real non-profit. You had a non-profit status bank account, because you were a real non-profit. Stop minimizing what you're doing. You and your friends were AMAZING and AMBITIOUS. Mummy brain? Not you ladies. So stop putting yourself down and thinking what you are doing is "nothing special".  Stop thinking you aren't really contributing much to society other than being a pretty good mum. I'd like to retroactively send all of you women a medal of honor. (Honour, rather.)

Um, also, don't forget you wrote and published a book?

Basically, what I'm saying is, stop putting yourself down and thinking you've "lost yourself" and you have "no ambition" and you "aren't smart".  You have always been ambitious in everything you've ever done.  Your priorities changed (and rightly so), but your drive didn't.

And I only JUST realized this very recently myself, so no fault to you for not seeing it whilst in the thick of it.

Love,

Lori (34 and still ambitious)

******

Dear Lori (31),

Your life is about to change in every way. I think you know this. I mean, obviously you know you are leaving your home in Scotland to go back to your home in Arkansas. That's going to change your life drastically. (And I should really go ahead and prep you for this - you won't be moving to Fayetteville when you get there. Scott's going to find a job in Little Rock in a matter of weeks, and you're going to live in Nowheresville for two years. I think it's best I just tell you this now.)  But things are about to change so much more.  Who you are, who you've always seen yourself as, is about to do a complete 180.  You sense this, but you aren't ready to accept it.

You're about to lose your faith.

It's going to destroy you.

I'm not gonna lie about that.

But I swear to you, it's only temporary. That darkness you feel right now is only temporary. I know there's nothing I can say to lighten the load you carry on your shoulders right now. I know there's nothing that can soften the blows you feel every time you pray and hear nothing from God.  I know those tears are going to fall and that they have to fall. Like a mother watching her child go through her first heart break, I feel powerless for you, knowing that things are going to get better but that you can't see that right now. I know this is something you have to go through to get to the other side, but it hurts me to see it and remember it for you.  So I guess all I can say is do everything you can to keep your faith alive. Pray with all your strength. Speak to anyone you trust about this. Write about it, talk about it, paint about it, run and exercise about it.  Because you need to know later that you did everything you could to hold onto that faith, and if God couldn't do the rest, well then, that's that.

The pain of silence and abandonment will pass, and when they do, you will find joy again. Joy unspeakable. Joy in the world as it is, not as it's written to be. You will find strength in yourself you never knew you had even though it was yours all along. You will find love and trust and freedom in ways you never believed could be found in a life without a god. 

But for now, there's no sense in telling you this, because there is no way you can believe it. So just keep doing what you're doing, because you're doing everything right.

I'm sorry you're going through this. Your whole life has been one as a caterpillar, and now you are being torn apart and squished and reshaped and it hurts so incredibly bad. But just wait.

Love,
Lori (34 and you would never believe what I call myself now...)

*****

Dear Lori (32),

Don't be too bummed about the Scottish referendum.  In a couple of years, there will be this thing called "Brexit"...

Love,
Lori (34 with a Scotland tattoo)

Letters to My Past Self

Dear Lori (16),

Oh there is so much I wish I could tell you. First of all, I know school is boring and easy, and you can pass tests without studying, but please, learn to study. Learn to sit down and do your homework every night. It's easy at the moment, but you've not been to college yet.

Furthermore, take AP European History. I know you don't like history now, but one day you'll be very interested in it, not to mention you'll be living in Europe and will feel stupid about what you don't know. You'll also be doing your GPA a big favour. You'll end up a few decimal points short of what you really need if you don't.

On the subject of boys, don't put all those eggs in that one basket. He's the love of your life now, but he's not the one for you. In just a few short months, he will turn into a completely different person, and you won't even recognise him anymore.

One more thing. You are beautiful. And skinny. You will never look so good in shorts as you do right now. You think you've got a big butt, but you don't, not even close. You hate your nose, but it's cute too (and one day you'll finally get that nose ring you've been wanting all these years but more on that later).

Love,
Lori (30)

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Dear Lori (18),
OH. MY. GOODNESS. What are you playing at?

First, this guy is not for you either. He's rebellious and exciting, but you will compromise yourself too much with him. He'll end up telling you the truth soon about how he really feels about you, and it will tear you apart. LEAVE NOW.

And that other guy from before, stop letting him string you along. He is manipulative, and you need to stand up for yourself. Despite what you still secretly think, HE IS NOT THE ONE. (In fact, neither will be the next two guys you will get serious about.)

Second, why are you smoking pot? It's fun but please, just stop now. It's going to get you into trouble next year.

The senior play? No, you didn't get the main part but that doesn't mean the director hates you. You may feel it's unfair, but that's life. She doesn't hate you. She just didn't cast you.

Stop fighting with your friends. This is your last year together, and believe it or not, a group of friends this tightly knit does not happen to everyone. You are so lucky to have this group, so stop letting high school drama (literally) divide you. Enjoy this last year together, because some of these girls you won't see again for a very, very long time... some of them I've still not seen since graduation. You won't even make it to your 10 year high school reunion to see them there.

Please don't forget to thank your mom and dad profusely for letting you go to Boston on the Forensics trip.  To you, it's just money.  To them, it meant scrimping, saving and doing without, just for you.  You better not forget to thank them. Over and over.

Remember all that stuff about studying and taking extra AP classes? I still mean that. If you don't pull off a couple more A's instead of B's out of laziness, you will not get the GPA you wanted. Just sayin'.

Also, as it turns out, you can take the top scores in each category of all your ACTs combined to get a final ACT score. I *really* wish we'd both known that at the time.

Speaking of ACTs, you won't be going to college in Texas, so don't waste your time not applying in-state, because you will miss the scholarship deadline and end up paying back a student loan for the next twenty years.

Finally, you are still beautiful and creative and intelligent, no matter what those boys make you think of yourself. You are worthy of respect. Demand it.

Love,
Lori (still 30)

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Dear Lori (20),
If I could, I would reach back through time and just hold you tightly, whispering the truth of the happy future you have ahead of yourself. It hurts so badly right now, I know. I remember.

It's not the end. It's only the beginning. I know you really, truly believed this time he was the one, and I know you were this close to what you thought would be lifetime happiness, but he wasn't meant for you. He's a wonderful guy, but he's not for you. He has someone else out there waiting for him and so do you. Yours is literally around the corner. If you were still with him, you'd have missed the real happiness that was meant for you, the guy who thinks it's cute, not embarrassing, that you like the Spice Girls.

Besides that, I've got some practical advice for you.

You've been wanting that nose ring since you were 15, I know. But your parents aren't kidding; they WILL stop paying your tuition if you get one. You may like the idea of becoming independent of them and running your own life, but do you KNOW what spending the next twenty years paying off a student loan will be like? Can you not just wait one more year? You've waited this long already.

At least you kept your tattoo hidden until graduation. Well done. You'd have lost a car if you hadn't.

Don't drop out of your Arabic classes, and go ahead and do Middle Eastern Studies as your minor.  It will be so worth the hard work.  (And the job opportunities...!)

And please keep that green jumper. You'll only regret throwing it out.

Anyway, I'm proud of the person you're becoming. You've learned (albeit the hard way) how to study, you're on your way to graduating University with Honors, and you're a hard worker at your jobs. Not to mention those poems you are writing? They will still impress you even a decade later. They are really good.

Love,
Lori (a decade later)


*************************

Dear Lori (21),
See? Didn't I tell you? Believe it or not, he gets better.

Love,
Lori (30 and happy to be with him and your three future children)





What would you say to your past self if you had the chance? Leave your comments below.