This is My Confession.

Four confessions.

1. I can breathe again. This isn’t much of a confession. But I keep touting about how healthy I am– or how healthy I try to be with my lifestyle choices– and the truth is I have been sick for 3 weeks. My step by step plan failed me, like an asshole, and I have been a snot factory. Gross. Every time I would run it was like a green mucus ghoul popped out of my throat/nose… too much? So I succumbed and went to the doctor– which I hate– but at least now I have health insurance. And I got all kinds of fun drugs. So now I have given this cold/infection the middle finger. It feels so good to not feel like my head is made of cotton.

2. I mailed a letter today that I probably shouldn’t have. My roomie plays the devils advocate. You know how you are supposed to have an angel and a devil on each shoulder? I’m pretty sure my angel peaced out awhile ago. And now I just have this little devil that tells me, “yeah! that is a great idea! spill out your heart and your soul and be kind of a creep… GREAT PLAN!” (yes roomie, I am calling you a devil. DEAL WITH IT) As I watched the envelope fall into the box, I made a movie-esque attempt to grab it, failed, and then considered finding an axe (what?) and smashing the blue mail box to smithereens to retrieve said letter. True, this would lead to my arrest…Oh yeah, most importantly, I don’t have a fucking axe.. goodness me. SO, the letter is sent. THANK YOU DEVIL.

3. I hung out with my mormon friend today. And guess what, we talked about religion AND gay marriage AND abortion– and guess who didn’t get fired up and flip over a table? THIS GIRL. Perhaps I am a real adult, I listen, discuss and value others opinions and faith. SHUT THE FRONT DOOR.

4. I wear toe shoes. AH HA, and you didn’t think I was going to get back to running/veganism or yoga.. did ya? Yes, it is almost shameful to admit– but those creepy ass shoes with the five-finger slots.. the ones that you laugh at blatantly and mock endlessly? I wear those puppies when I run. I used to wear them for all my walks as well, but after breaking my toe four times (yes, four) on my dog, I got some other, less atrocious looking, barefoot shoes. However, I can’t just cut the vibes (the five-finger champions shorten the name. NBD) out of my life. They got me through my first half marathon. They used to be white, now they are grey. They smell like a foot. Forever. I love them. Yes, I love my god damn vibrams.

These are my confessions.

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Dear Me:

I was reading a magazine today and there was an excerpt from this book called, Dear Me:  A Letter to my 16 Year Old Self. It is a bunch of celebrities writing letters to themselves about things they wish they would have known when they were 16. It reminded me of the AMAZING, WONDERFUL, INSPIRING, CRY ALL THE TIME It Gets Better Project, created by Seattle’s own Dan Savage.

Either way, it is a neat project. And although most of the celebrities writing letters were in their 40s, 50s and 60s, I felt inspired and decided to write a letter to my emo 16 year old self. Perhaps when I am 35 I will write a letter to by 25 year old self. All I know is that my 25 year old self is a lot more strong, confident and peaceful than my 16 year old self. So here it goes.

Dear Me:

Stop cutting your hair that way. You kind of look like a tool. I mean that in the nicest way. I guarantee that when you look back at pictures, you will wish you hadn’t done that with your hair.

Also, your body is perfect. No, you aren’t short like your best friends. No, you aren’t ever going to be petite. But god damn it you are strong. You are well proportioned. You have thick, wavy hair and a beautiful string of freckles across your nose.

Speaking of freckles… WEAR SUNSCREEN. You will have a few too many horrible burns in the future if you think you are going to tan like your best friends. They were graced with olive skin—you were not. Stop pretending.

Those boys? The ones you think are too cute for you? They aren’t. They will fall in love with you. Enjoy that. Have more confidence in the fact that you are attractive, and that your wit and sass will win them over every time.

Don’t be too concerned with if you are popular or not. In just a few years you will find that the ones you most enjoy are those that read and will play Apples to Apples with you. You won’t even know there are parties going on; you will be content hanging out with mormons and being innocent. Roll with it. You will get your party on in college—and for goodness sakes, stay away from Monarch alcohol, it will cause one too many terrible mornings.

Your first love is tumultuous and silly. You will always have a little corner in your heart for him. You will also move on to much bigger and much more real things. It is always hard. It is always painful. It is always beautiful.

And yes, you will turn into the athlete that you always wanted to be. It might take more years then you would like to imagine, but there will come a time when you will stand naked in front of the mirror and truly love every part of yourself.

With love,

Your future self.