Yesterday, as I was going through a drawer in my house, I found an envelope of college graduation pictures from circa 2019.
I had some senior pictures taken on campus and also at Smithville. I thought it was coincidental as I knew I was going back to Smithville today.
So I took one of my senior pictures with me and spent some time thinking about what an interaction with my younger self would look like. I think maybe something like this:
She would be an hour early due to her crippling social anxiety, and I would roll in maybe 10 minutes early with a normal amount of social anxiety.
She would smile and wave awkwardly as I walked in, and I would go up to her and hug her. She would hate it, but I would go up to her and hug her and tell her that I was really proud of her for making it through the winter that year.
She would ask me if I loved my job as a corporate event planner, and I would tell her no, that God had other plans.
She would ask me if I ever completed all of the stops on the Garden State Wine passport, and I would tell her no, that I haven’t had a drink since December of 2022.
She’d ask if I continued in therapy after graduation because of the expense, and I’d tell her yes. I’d tell her about how faithful God has been to provide.
She’d ask me if the mental health care system is still broken and hard to navigate. I’d tell her yes, but now I help other people advocate for themselves and navigate the system.
She’d probably ask me if it was still as hard to make it through each day. I’d tell her that there have been large chunks of time in the last 6 years that she didn’t want to make it through each day but that she’s made it through 100% of her hardest days.
She’d ask me if we still hated ourself and I’d tell her no, that I’ve done a lot of work in the past year on that and today marks 123 days of not engaging in negative coping mechanisms.
I’d look her in the eyes and tell her that she’s not a burden and she’s worthy of love.
I’d tell her that all of her hard-work in therapy during college set up a great foundation for continued growth.
I’d tell her how intentional and intense the last 15 months of treatment have been.
I’d tell her that she’s not weak, she’s a warrior.
That she has boundaries now and she knows her worth.
I’d talk to her about the calling she was trying to avoid. I’d let her know I’m starting to step fully into it and there’s so much clarity and passion that comes with that.
I’d probably start wrapping up the conversation because she feels the intensity of it. But I’d let her know how proud I am of her and I’d thank her for doing the best that she knew how.
Hope Over Hurt 