A letter from Feb 03, 2023

Dear shannon, One month of the year 2023 is gone. One more month until you move in with A***. Life is so stressful, then it’s not. What a weird time to be alive. I want to be strong for you and brave for you. I think about the girl I was last February. Scared of destroying things and causing hazards. Scared of making mistakes. I’m still scared of making mistakes, less so that I’ll blow something up. When did that start to scare me so much? I’m painfully aware that my existence is that of an average human, so why do I hold myself to these impossible standards? Why do I embrace making myself feel miserable? I have decent friends and an excellent boyfriend. I have an amazing family. An adorable cat. That is life. That is beautiful. That is meaningful. I recently saw a post about how the universe cannot be unforgiving and cold because we are inherently part of the universe. Therefore it is not unforgiving and cold because we are forgiving and we are not cold. I’ve been in therapy for 3 months and it helps a little with my wrecked self esteem. I’m still trying to be better (kinder, smarter, more mature). I called Lindsay tonight on the phone and we talked about grief and trauma. Sometimes it is hard to let go of the trauma that haunts us. If we let go of it, does that mean that it didn’t matter or that it didn’t hurt? What happens to the part that of me that grew from that trauma? If you cut the bad spot off the Apple you still lose some of the Apple. Ultimately you still gain so much more than just tossing the whole fruit out. Even if it wrecks you, Shannon, you will be okay. In this moment I choose to see you as you are, much greater than the sum of your parts. If this letter finds you in pain, know that I am here for you. I believe you. I see you. I’m rooting for you. Look how far you’ve grown, just imagine how much farther you can go. All my love, Shannon, 23, 23’