Dear seventh-grade me,
Twenty-seven-year-old you will have ditched the bangs that hide the “fivehead” everyone made fun of and will voluntarily get a middle-part hair cut for her curly hair she used to hate.
She will still have insecurities but will have learned to love herself more than you do right now. She will use the deep voice that was the butt of many jokes for a short-lived career in broadcasting and a long-term dream of speaking and encouraging for the glory of God.
She will stop comparing herself to other girls quite as often as you do and will love cheering them on instead. And she will learn how to just be because that’s the only thing she has to do for God to love her.
Seventh-grade Kaitlin, I’m so sorry you were so sad and bullied so hard. You didn’t deserve it, but you’re better for it. You love people bigger because of it. You fight for the lonely since you know how it feels. You grew up to be a kind woman with the best people in the world around her. You experience pain you never thought you would and achieve things you weren’t sure you could.
You learn what it means to truly be a daughter of God and help others discover the same.
Sweet friend, you learn to be loved, and you begin to soak up grace.
Your life matters now and will matter later. I’m proud of you for staying strong and never giving up.
And hey, you learned how to use mousse and eyeliner, so let’s celebrate the small things.