The gift of time travel would be amazing. The ability to rewrite history would be right at your fingertips. You could visit your ancestors and tell them about the world that is to come. I could see how my future will pan out, see if all of my hard work is going to pay off. But what seems even better is an even smaller bit of time travel.
If only I could become a whisper of myself and stand beside my younger self. Maybe around twelve or eleven years old, miserable and unable to look at herself in a positive light. I wish that I could hold her hand and tell her to look into her own eyes, tell her what she should be seeing in her own reflection.
Tell her that there is nothing wrong with the way that her hair curls, and that there is no reason to brush them away into a tight bun. That in five years someone would fall in love with her and her curls, and tell her how her brunette tendrils bounce off of her face when she laughs. Tell her that there is nothing wrong with the freckle that sits on the side of her nose, and tell to laugh it off when people think that it’s chocolate. To not laugh at the expression “perfect imperfections” but rather to embrace it.
There is no other thing in the world that I want more than the ability to tell my younger self what I see when I look in the mirror now. I would be able to tell her what a strong and independent woman she has become. That when she turns 14 she’ll be cutting important people out of her life and learning for the first time what it means to do things for yourself.
I want to be able to look at myself and tell her that she is confident and so beyond intelligent and gifted. That she is going to grow into an open minded and clever sassy girl that is going to be so focused on her career and her happiness that looks will be the last thing on her mind. That even though she’s going to have to fight her way out of less than stellar situations, that even though people are going to let her down she is going to prevail.
She is going to grow up and start going out to lunch by herself. She’s going to start carrying herself with more confidence, more class. She’s going to laugh so loudly that people will start to look, and she’s not going to care.
The girl who couldn’t look in the mirror, she’s going to be okay?
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