Flashback

If I could go back five years and talk to myself . . .

I'd tell her she didn't have to try to be so strong. I'd tell her pastors aren't trustworthy just because they're pastors. I'd tell her not to put so much faith in her church family, because it wasn't going to be there for her when the shit hit the fan.

I'd tell her that she was going to be hit with a lot of pain, and that she was going to be expected to act like an adult towards actual adults who acted like children, but that she was still a child, and she didn't have to do it. I'd tell her not to worry so much about protecting my family, and to get the help she needed.

I'd tell her to say all the things she meant to say when she wanted to say it and not hold back.


If I could go back four years . . .

I'd beg her to get help then, and save herself a lot of secrecy and pain and scars.

I'd tell her to get out of that church right then, to leave the youth group. It's not abandoning because they abandoned you.

I'd tell her to find other friends, friends who maybe weren't Christians, or friends who didn't go to church. I'd tell her these friends would be fine, and they'd probably end up being the best and truest friends she'd ever have.


If I could go back three years . . .

I'd tell her to take more pictures, because I don't remember her anymore. I don't remember what she did or didn't do, I just have scars to prove that 16 happened.


If I could go back two years . . .

I'd tell her go ahead, college is right for you right now, don't be so afraid. But be careful. And keep praying (she stopped praying).

I'd tell her not to be so afraid of her gifts. You're not weird, but you're also not better. Just relax and pray.


If I could go back a year . . .

I'd tell her to forgive my pastor sooner, to tell her parents she didn't want to talk about the lawsuit anymore, and to tell she's not someone to dump on, she's only 18. I'd tell her to off Dori and Todd, tell them they hurt her when they told their daughter, my best friend, that we were bad people. I'd tell her to speak her mind to Jeff and tell him what she thought about what happened.

I'd tell her to never hang out with Derek. No, don't ever go over to see him. Don't give him you're number. Don't play with that fire.


If I could go back six months . . .

I'd say, yeah, get that tattoo, it'll look good.

I'd say don't go back to Derek. Don't get in bed with him. You're just lonely right now. He's dangerous, he's fire, he'll burn you, he'll push under your skin. You won't keep saying no. And once you don't say no, he'll never let you go back to saying no. He'll leave you lonely. He'll leave you broken and when he says he'll call you soon, you'll never hear from him again. He'll just bruise your heart up so it's too tender to entertain the thought of ever letting anyone else really care for it.

I'd say speak kindly but firmly. I'd say care for the relationships you've got, care hard, care strong, don't waste away your time with someone who doesn't love you.

I'd say don't let people walk all over you.

I'd say take care of yourself as best you can.


If in two years, I can come back to now, I hope I say . . .

Don't count your regrets. You got out when you did, and you'll be ok. Your heart will heal, and it doesn't matter if he ever calls you or not, because you're stronger than that, and you don't need him. There's something better for you coming soon enough. Just be patient, you'll see what I mean.

Take care of yourself. Don't give yourself away again. Don't let your lonliness determine the condition of your heart and who has access. You won't always be lonely.

Keep writing, it's what you love most. Keep playing that guitar, you'll love that, too. Be open to new friendships. Keep the ones you have.

You're stronger than you think.