Part two to the Dear Me letter to my 16 year old self. You can find part one here.
Never. ever. settle!
You think you’re not beautiful, your happiness doesn’t matter, no one can love you, and your dreams are selfish. You couldn’t be more wrong!
This lack of belief in who you are will cause you to think you have the best you can get, which isn’t all that great.
Thinking you will always be alone and lonely if you don’t compromise, you settle. Compromise stinks, girl! Don’t do it!
You *will* see the light right before you make a permanent decision but you will already be so vested you can’t find the way out.
You will cry your way through your wedding, not because you’re happy, but because you know you’re settling and fighting the urge to apologize and run back up the aisle. Being a committed non-quitter you trudge forward and make one of the greatest mistakes of your life.
LIVE WITH REGRETS!
No, that’s not a typo.
This is the hardest thing for me to write because there is no question that settling will give you regrets. Yet, there are some regrets worth having.
How is that for giving you mixed signals?!
Your older self will have…wait for it…8, yes, eight, amazing (!) children that she would go through every. single. pregnancy. every. single. birth. every. single. sleepless. night. every. single. day. of their lives. every. single. day. of her “settled” life to continue to have them in her life!!!!
As much as I wish I would have held out for someone much better for me, I know that 8 wonderful people might not be in my life had I done so. How then do I tell you to rob me of the most precious blessings I have ever experienced? I simply, and most selfishly, can’t.
Please, let me live with that one regret. I’m certain I can handle it.
When you are only 40 (I know it sounds old, trust me, it’s young. Very young.) you will be faced with something that will require a great deal of courage and faith. You will be told you have Chiari malformation. After weeks of research you will have to decide if you are willing to continue to degenerate physically, and neurologically, or take a huge risk with an open dura Posterior Fossa Brain decompression surgery.
Yeah, the vet tech in you thinks the brain surgery is cool. The human being in you thinks there’s no way you can be brave enough for it.
You come face to face with Mom’s death from a brain aneurysm nearly 30 years earlier.
You cry yourself to sleep every night, for weeks. Wishing and praying that you had a husband who loved you enough to walk the road with you.
Don’t lose heart because God is there, as He promised He would be. And this is all God giving you a 2nd chance that you needed. An awakening of sorts.