god, let me think clearly and brightly; let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences. -sylvia plath
i’ve recently found myself pining for my misspent youth–dreaming about those carefree days that were wide open, when everything was still possible. when my flesh was smooth and not puckered. when i was just an innocent little flower about to bloom.
and then i remembered what a total moron i was, and it made me feel a lot better about being old. it also made me think of all the things i wish i’d known back then, the things that can really only be learned the hard way.
so here are the things i’d say to all of my younger selves–everything that i know in my bones is true, even if i can’t always remember it all when it matters.
- there is very little that can’t be made better by a freshly made bed with sheets just out of the dryer.
- strive to be better, not perfect. perfectionism is a search for reasons to hate yourself. being better is so much more possible—and interesting.