Dear 12 year old me,

Dear 12 year old me,

I am writing this letter to inform you that things will get better. Those angry scars across your thigh will fade, and your wrists will stop being a canvas for your pain. I promise. I know things are Goddamn awful for you, and I’m so, so sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise.

I know the Bad Man made you scared, but please don’t believe a word he says. You are beautiful. You are strong. You can keep fighting. This is the year he goes away. I know that seems impossible but it’s true, he will never lay a finger on you again. So keep going. Cry into your pillow, it doesn’t make you weak. Get out of bed, I knowΒ it’s the hardest task of the day, but you can do it. Talk to your parents, please, you’re scaring them.

In the future you’ll ace your exams (A*’s in Biology, Chemistry, and Physics!) and you’ll go to an amazing college. There will be a boy in the hallway, the one looking dorky and cute, the one smiling at you. Go talk to him. Or just do what I did and get really nervous and make a stupid joke…then run away awkwardly. But it’s okay, because your paths will cross again! You’ll go on a school trip, where you’re sat in a “train crash” so the emergency services can practice rescuing you. You’ll be covered in fake blood, wearing hospital scrubs, surrounded by smoke, and screaming people… and he’ll be sitting next to you making even stupider jokesΒ and being just as awkward as you are.

This boy will make you realise how amazing you truly are. He’ll kiss your scars. He’ll hold you all night to keep the nightmares away. But most of all, he’ll be there for you. He knows your past, he’s intertwined in your present, and you’ll plan your future together.

Your future is filled with love, and hope, and opportunities. So please put the razor down, untie the rope, and look around you because the World is so beautiful. Just like you.

Lots of love,

Amy

(Written for Teens Tell Their Story)

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27 thoughts on “Dear 12 year old me,

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