Dear Little Girl

A letter to my younger self

Dear little girl,

It’s not your fault

your talents were

suppressed, scolded,

snipped at the sign of

the first green shoot.

It’s not your fault

your questions were not welcomed

but shunned, feared, ignored,

it's not your fault

your doubts were demonized

to the point of timid compliance.

It's not your fault, dear heart, that

the river of your consciousness

was diverted, gathered at its head

and sent down a channel

rife with craggy stones and

knife-toothed dangers.

In many ways, you are

a product of your past,

your misguided authorities,

your ignorant peers.

You were nurtured, tended,

attentively trimmed,

to be an identical duplicate

in a topiary garden.

Your life was a series of

rigid expectations,

cultivated to a set of

unswaying provisions,

it's not your fault you were

unaware of the

unconventionality

of your carefully curated life.

It's not your fault

you were never allowed to be

all you could have been, all

you were meant to be.

It's not your fault, little soul,

your sense of wonder,

independence, insatiable curiosity,

were traded out for

pliable congruity,

molded, pressed, perfected,

then fired to completion,

and it isn't your fault that

you're starting to crack under

a pressure that never

should have been yours.

Take heart, darling girl,

it's not your fault,

I love you, for all that you are,

love every part of your

wide, innocent heart.

You are unique, intelligent,

brimming with life,

your potential brighter than

even the moon herself.

Be strong, my love,

it's not your fault, and

given the odds, you'll

grow up remarkably well.

Have faith, little one,

you will rise again,

despite the wrong

your power will dawn and

you will come back strong,

stronger than you know.

So hold on, dear girl,

you'll be there soon,

sooner than you think,

and not a moment too late.

Love, Your Future Self