Dear Teenage Girl

 

I see you flirting and having fun. I smile.

I see a shadow cross your face as the flirting takes a turn and you fawn for a boy’s attention.

I remember the rush of stealing a hand during a movie or sneaking a kiss when no one was looking.

I remember and I smile.

But I turn back to this crazy digital age and I skim them messages about who all saw your snap of your naked tush…

and I feel sick.

My eyes cry alligator tears and a my heart screams in agony.

This is not who you are.

You know that.

I know that.

Yet, this choice was made.

I want to call your parents.

But I don’t.

I imagine big strong arms to hold you while you grieve this ridiculous thing.

This not a big thing but yet this HUGE thing.

You know it deep in your heart but you push it away.

Push away the shame and the hurt.

Know this….

You are strong. You are able. You deserve the love of a thousand prince charmings. You deserve all the romantic dreams. The kisses. You also deserve respect. Self respect. Body awareness and the fullness of a mature love. You deserve to be comfortable in your skin. Just as no boy can use your body as an excuse for their actions, so you must control your body and rock it with dignity. Not shame and desperation. Beautiful, life giving dignity. Square up your shoulders and silence the doubts in your head that suggest you should settle for anything less. ¬†You should not. And have you given more than you thought you wanted, ok. So what. Life is full of dead ends and U-turns. You can always turn back. Never believe the lie that you cannot turn back. Find a friend you trust, share a soul cleansing cry and try again. Find me… message me, text me, snap me. There is nothing you have done that will shock me because life and the internet. And because I don’t care about that thing. I care about your heart.

I believe in courage. In bravery. In second chances and fresh starts. In learning. In loving.

I believe in you.

With love ~ Me.

No Goodbyes

A week ago God settled something in my heart that had long been boiling in the corner. 11 years long to be exact.

“No more.” He told me sternly, kindly. Words wrapped in the complexity of a father’s command.

But what if I cannot.

“You will. You can.”

* * * *

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