Dear Tiffany,
Compulsively scrolling facebook to avoid The Feels is giving you a headache and making your wrists hurt and not helping very much.
I love you.
Dear Tiffany,
You have good people. The best people.
For a lot of years, as this constellation of people was twinkling into existence, you were afraid that you were tricking them into liking you, they were delusional, you were going to be revealed to be a horrible unloveable monster.
Those fears were not based in reality.
Your people love you.
You haven’t tricked them into it.
They aren’t fools who have been fooled.
And they are such good people.
They are the best people.
We are magic, we are stars, pulling the constellation together with the gravity of our big hearts.
Welcome to the Non-Binary Nebula. There’s space for so many.
Love,
Me
Dear Tiffany,
Can it be a loving act to have permission to just… sit for a moment quietly?
Let’s say yes.
I love you.
You have permission to not-words.
Love,
Me
Dear Tiffany,
In another universe, you are still friends with your ex-husband. Your kids have playdates. You have found the good in each other, built something together, something real and good and not a marriage.
In another other universe, you are still friends with Tara from elementary and junior high, and your friendship survived the riptide of depression and teen angst.
In another other universe, you are still friends with Ashley, and you were wise enough at 7 (or whatever age it was) to stay in touch when you moved across the city.
Other universes, other selves, other relationships.
Family relationships. Friendships. Romances.
All these other universes.
And you think, in those other universes, you are a better person, to have kept those relationships, to have fixed those relationships, to have been good enough/kind enough/smart enough/loving enough/forgiving enough/fun enough/mentally stable enough/energetic enough/whatever enough.
How can you compete with alternate universe Tiffany?
That self has friendships from childhood!
That self has healed all of their relationships.
This self is just… well. I mean.
Not that.
Anyway. It’s hard to stay present right now.
I love you for trying.
I love your imagination, and how you imagine connection.
I love you for coming back to this universe no matter how difficult that is.
High fives, you.
High fives, me.
You are still a pretty okay person, even in this universe. Even with all the broken relationships in your history. Even with all the disconnections and the pain and the struggle. Even with all of that.
(And also, you never know what those Tiffanys in alternate universes long for. Maybe they have all of their relationships but they don’t have such badass coping skills? Maybe they wish they could tell terrible pun jokes? You just don’t know.)
Love,
Me
Dear Tiffany,
There is sadness in you, and part of the work is reaching back to love and calm and heal that sad younger self. But another part of the work is reaching back to your joyful inner child, to let that young self love and calm and heal you. To let the healing flow forwards *and* backwards. To find treasure at both ends of the rainbow. To find comfort in connection. To recognize how it flows, both the sadness and the joy.
Love,
Me