Dear Kai, I finally Answered You
A Letter to My Future Self
Dear future me,
Are you still the prettiest?
Like mommy’s doll… do you still follow the rules,
or did we finally learn how to break them?
Did we find real friends
like really real ones?
Did our crush, Jason, ever notice us?
I still think about his dad…
how he told me to take care of him before he passed.
I didn’t know how to carry something that big back then.
I hope he’s okay.
Are we still one of the boys?
Do we still enjoy being around them,
laughing like we belong?
Did we become a fashion designer like we dreamed?
Did we make enough money
to finally buy the things we wanted?
Did we get to travel the world?
Do we still love to sing?
Did we ever learn how to dance?
Do we still read romantic books
and dream about someone
who will protect us and love us truly?
Do we still run to pages
to write what we feel,
or do we finally have people
who listen?
Do people still misunderstand us,
or take advantage of us?
I really hope not.
Anyway…
I just hope you’re happy
where you are right now.
Love,
Your younger self
A Letter for My Younger Self
Dear younger me,
You asked me if I’m still the prettiest.
No one calls me mommy’s doll anymore…
But I learned something you didn’t know yet
Being pretty was never the thing that would save us.
Being strong was.
And no…
I don’t follow all the rules anymore.
I learned that some rules were never meant to protect me
They were meant to keep me small.
So yes… we break some now.
You wanted real friends.
We found a few.
Not a lot… but the kind that stay,
The kind that see me, even on the days I try to hide.
About Jason…
We didn’t end up being the one to take care of him.
And that’s okay.
You were just a kid carrying words that were too heavy.
That was never your responsibility.
You can let that go now.
We’re not “one of the boys” anymore
But we learned where we truly belong.
And this time,
We don’t have to shrink to fit in.
You asked if we became a fashion designer…
We didn’t.
But we became something just as powerful
We became a writer.
We turned all the things we were too afraid to say
Into something people can feel.
We wrote our pain, our truth, our silence…
And people listened.
Yes… we still read romantic books.
We never stopped believing in that kind of love.
And you’ll be relieved to know
We found it.
Not perfect, not like the stories,
But real… steady… the kind that stays.
The kind that holds us on the days we feel like falling apart.
And those pages you used to run to?
We still write.
But not because we have no one
Because it’s who we are.
And now…
We have people who listen too.
We’re not as alone as you think.
Do people still misunderstand us?
Sometimes.
But now… we don’t stay where we’re not understood.
And you asked the most important thing
If I’m happy.
Not all the time.
But I’m real.
And I’m still here.
And that means something.
You would be proud of me.
Even on the days I don’t feel it.
And I’m proud of you too
For loving deeply,
For hoping anyway,
For believing in a kind of love
We didn’t even know we deserved yet.
I’m still carrying you with me.
Just… not the weight anymore.
Love,
You