A letter from Sep 13, 2024

Dear FutureMe, It's August 19th. Again. I'm so proud of us. You took steps to make things better. You started small and moved slowly and painfully, and with great indignity. And your steps faltered. But you kept going. You stopped feeling sorry for yourself and replaced that self-pity you used to feel so badly, with a genuine mindfulness and a sense of awe and gratitude. You stopped looking for jobs with other people's companies and all the dread and pointlessness accompanying that, and you built something you can NOW BE PROUD OF. Not everyone likes what you do. Many don't even understand it. But your work makes you supremely satisfied, and you used trial and error and a boatload of **** tons of other strategies you researched and learned about to overcome your fears and produce a product that you love to share. You found a way to use your talents, and banked unbelievable skills, to make something so utterly a part of you, that you can't help but make more, and so utterly valuable, others can't help but demand it. Furthermore, you found and betrothed within yourself a deeply stoic truth you knew from the beginning, cultivating a purity of intent and love for all that your art expresses that you are genuinely proud of. You defined a new way of seeing the world with rigor, discernment, purity, love, hope, and authenticity. And you did it for you. Yourself. You left behind the clumsy girlish need for approval and supplicating ambivalence to find a message you feel compelled to share, in a voice bold and humble, moving and elegant, and powerful enough to carry it. You have a body of work that is capable of competing with any contemporary. This is literally your definition of heaven, and you're paving the way for the little artists you love to do the same. You took real steps, again slow and painful, to put yourself on a course of study, not only academically, but personally. You learned concepts and skills, conquered habits and overcame decades of pain and loss. You did the hard work that forced you to examine the ugly, stupid, selfish parts of yourself and replace them with beautiful, intelligent, deeply loving truths about this world. You've given yourself what you need and worked your *** off to get to the degree program you wanted, on the path YOU determined for yourself, in addition to the artwork you've been creating all along, and quietly amassed the skills necessary to cultivate a reputation for excellence, creativity, and quiet dogged determination. You're actually where you belong, and still improving. You respect you. Your options are potentially limitless now. And no matter what we have chosen so far, or what we will choose in the future, you're going to change so many lives for the better. You were clever and relentless and humble and grateful. You don't have to wonder about a nobler purpose you might have missed out on. You don't have to hope your kids bridge the gap between merely surviving and full-spectrum thriving. YOU are giving them that. Just like your mother. Just like Aunt Cheryl. Just like everyone you've admired for so long. And you're going to give a lot of children the same chance. What I'm proudest of you for is that you took the high road. Despite fear and pettiness, despite the years of aching and blame and ********, you stopped letting anyone else dictate how you respond to them. You began choosing your responses. You stopped blaming ANYONE for your choices and your actions and your words, but you. You stopped talking to yourself like you're trash, and began speaking to yourself in the voice you hope your babies hear in their minds. You began living in reality and finding the beauty you wanted in real life. You stumbled and failed and you'll do it again, but you learned to love it, and you found out, you're really really great at being brave and trying terrifying things. You're really good at speaking truth, and then acting on it. You started resisting the little deficiencies you were labeled with as a child. You started acting from a place within your heart, the place that is most aligned with the truth and beauty of this world. And you still love life so much, you never want to leave. You have so much more than you dreamed. That's a beautiful place to be. It no longer matters who else gets along or sees the work you've done. YOU admire you now. You're free from the chains that bound you for so long. Your reward for taking the high road, because of your determination to take supreme responsibility for all the things you love and all that loves you, your children are a part of your life now. Because of your struggle and relentless will to go down swinging this past year, from the day we sat and wrote this letter, crying on the bed, to today when you received it in your inbox. Now your beautiful daughters get to watch how hard you work at earning your academic accolades, and all the brilliant skills and talents you have honed, and the direction you were intent on directing them, and they can be proud of who they are and where they come from. They're loved and valuable, and they come from a family of quietly noble geniuses, so they must be the same, and no one can tell them it cannot be done. Ever. Your son gets to see the beautiful artwork you create, and the love and skill with which you craft it, and know that his mother loves him with all her heart, and she's just like him, and she didn't let that stop her, so he won't either. He sees the work that brings you such satisfaction, and how well you support yourself, despite your deficiencies, and he's proud and healing and learning he isn't challenged, he's gifted. He will now take it as fact that he will naturally and authentically overcome his obstacles too, and no one can ever tell him it cannot be done. Ever. You've changed their trajectory from one of shame, defeat, and loss, to one of redemption and humility and gratitude. You changed your parent's story to one of ultimate relief, and restored your trust in yourself and their trust in your ability to take care of all you love. You bridged the gap, just like all of the women in your family have. You sacrificed and worked yourself to the bone for this, this life you wanted. This life you have, and this is just phase 1. So it's time to lay down another plan and write another letter. Remember two things: “In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you" and "No matter how you feel, get up, dress up, show up, and never give up." You did all this in just one year. Just ONE YEAR. Are you really surprised? Don't forget their faces. Don't forget how hard they prayed for you. Don't forget your plan. Where do we want to go next? Oh, and Kimberly? Thank you. Love, You