Dear B,

My beautiful, vivacious, brave friend.  I am writing you as I promised I would last night.  This letter is for you to pull out in upcoming months when you doubt yourself and your decision, when you find yourself mean and full of self-judgment about what a bad person you are.  You're not.  You know that now, but you might have moments when you forget, and I want you to pull out this letter to help you remember. 

For the last 15 years you've been ignoring your inner voice, and all of your doubts.  Think of that little girl inside you who said, 'this doesn't feel good.'  Or, 'I want to do this instead.'  And she spoke up again and again and you shook your head impatiently and said, "Not now."  And finally you got sick of responding to her so you locked her away in a little closet.  And still she kept speaking to you, banging on the door of that closet and wailing, scared and alone and ignored.  And you shoved blankets under the cracks of the closet door and tried to muffle the sounds of your own dreams and your unhappiness.  Because it wasn't convenient at all to listen to her.  What she had to say was confusing and difficult.  You didn't know where it would lead.  You had the perfect life -- everyone agrees that you did -- and so that little girl inside you must be crazy, and dangerous.  Shut her up, for heaven's sake.

The bravest thing you've done is to go upstairs and open the closet door and let her out.  She was right, as it turned out.  She's your friend, and even more important, she's your responsibility.  Take her in your arms like you would your own daughter.  Tell her you're sorry.  And tell her you will always listen to her from now on. 

And that's the fun part, and also the hard part, that's ahead of you.  From now on, you're going to listen to that little girl.  Together, you and she are going to figure out how to be the woman you were born to be.  We have some hints of what that life will look like: you'll be an example, you'll be a helper and a connector.  You'll bring laughter and energy to whatever you do.  People will be attracted to you as to a fireplace, warmed by your glow.  Your range will be expansive -- worldwide, not provincial.  But there are things that we don't know yet.  She wants music, this little girl, and you get to discover together what that will look like.  Will you perform?  What else does she want, that is scary to admit?  It's your job to find out, because ignoring her any longer will kill you. 

So as you focus on this voice you have, you're going to be scared.  The voice is a gut feeling and it doesn't talk to you like an adult, with practical five-point plans that are easy to defend and explain to a watchful, critical world.  No, it's more a tug on your sleeve pulling you toward something new or a stamping foot and a red faced, insistent "NO!" in a context you've been making her tolerate for years.  And for a while you won't really know why.  And this is the hard part: you have to listen anyway.  Your vow to this little girl is to take her seriously, and to let her truly be herself.  Like any child she will be whimsical and perplexing.  She will stumble and falter and get stronger.  Right now, she doesn't really trust you.  You've locked her in the closet for all of these years.  You have to honor what she wants, even if it doesn't always make sense. 

You've already learned that the Ken and Barbie, shiny-couple-on-the-wedding-cake success doesn't mean deep satisfaction.  Remember this.  It's extraordinary how much we're pulled to win at games that don't mean anything, and to rack up trophies for things that our inner voices don't value at all.  I promise you that when you take that little girl inside you by the hand and let her lead you forward, she will shape your life into something that fits you perfectly.  You will shine and all of us in your glow will feel it, and benefit.  It probably won't look like the couple on the wedding cake.  All the people who are busy trying to make themselves happy by competing for those trophies will think you are crazy.  You're not crazy.  You're doing the bravest and most inspiring thing that it's possible to do.  You're learning how to be yourself. 

With admiration and affection,

Scheherazade

Comments

[Courtney]

Amazing... how you so eloquently put those feelings into words, capturing the fear, yet somewhat making it okay...truly amazing!

Are you B?

[Beth]

Amazing so id the one about the dog, Im interested in the feelings written here...