I sat at the foot of the bookcase, reading my yearbook from 7th grade. I didn’t have any messages from friends. (I don’t know why I didn’t get it signed that year.) But I had tons of messages about other people written in my own hand. I even had a code of lines and squiggles to identify who I liked, who was okay, and who I hated. Some included one-word annotations.
What started with “jerk” and “snob” quickly descended into slut shaming and homophobic slurs, and the further I made it into my yearbook, the more and more disgusted I became with myself.
I don’t remember being this girl.
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With every page I turned, my disappointment increased. When was I like this? WHY was I like this?
WHAT. THE ACTUAL. FUCK?!
Ready to call up my 7th-grade self and give her a lashing, I turned the almost-last-page of the 7th graders (I wasn’t always a Burns, lol).
And that’s when I saw it… the answer… in the code of distinct squiggles wrapped around my picture.
The realization crept through my body in an ever-widening, cavernous hole.
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I hated me.
Tears fell down my cheeks for this 7th-grade Self who saw the worst in others because she saw the worst in herself.
I’d been gearing up to berate her. To call her into a Spirit Conversation and express my severe disgust and shame.
But when I saw those lines, I released it all and pulled her into a hug instead.
She didn’t need more hate and blame…
My inner 12-year-old needed love and to see that we could change.
So I held her and loved her and cried.
My friend, we all have reasons to judge ourselves.
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You’ll face these at some point in your journey—creation tends to shine a light on our dark spaces.
When you do, I hope you’ll choose to love you even as you seek (if possible) to make it right.
Loves & hugs,
P.S. While I can be grateful I never vocally expressed the sentiments buried within my yearbook, I can hold remorse at the same time for writing those words in the first place. My self-hatred doesn’t excuse what my 12-year-old wrote. It only helps me understand why she did it. To those I might hurt by this revelation that I wasn’t always the human I am now, I am deeply sorry and (when you feel ready) ask your forgiveness. To those children in my youth, I am sorry I judged you at all.