Ever so often, when they looked at me, spoke about me, or to me, they likened me to a masterpiece; my beautiful soul and the person I was, “an absolute work of art,” they said. It was on one of my darker days that I mistakenly reflected on what this could imply, and I came to a crushing realisation. They were comparing me to expensive art. Art to be admired, revered and adored. But never to be acquired. The ones that would choose to take possession of this kind of wondrous creation would know exactly what it was worth, but would keep this knowledge and the creation itself hidden – so it could never be damaged, or coveted.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece. I wanted to be someone’s intricate jigsaw, to be finished piece by painstaking piece. When the picture would be completed, there would be a sense of pride towards me. I would be proudly displayed, for their entire world to see, rather than framed away under lock and key.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece. I wanted to be a lovingly knit jumper; the result of someone’s focused labour. The very fibre of my soul would weave seamlessly with theirs, blending moments and memories to wrap us in the warmth of the lives we shared.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece. I wanted to be someone’s meticulous needlepoint. As much as they’d have to strain to get things just right, and as much as they could get pricked on occasion, they would persevere because they knew the end result was worth it. I wanted to be worth that effort.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece. Unless it was to that soul that believed my perceived outward beauty was only enhanced by the love that overflowed from my soul to flood the lives of those around me.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece. Unless it was to the artist that understood why I existed, and loved me for it.
I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.
Note: I’m writing this to my 40 year old self, presuming that it’s a good time in the future to write to.
Dear future me,
I did mention you in my previous letter. But I shall, once again reiterate what I have to say. Just so we’re clear, you know?
I hope that as you read this, you have finished your ’30 before 30′ list, and have moved on to your ‘Things to do before I’m 40’ list. I hope that you have everything your heart has hoped for, because with every little hurdle you face along the way, you realise that you deserve it all. Because you have damn well earned it.
Let’s hope that all the things you believed in when you were young were worth believing in when you read this. That true friends will stick by you through it all. That love is hard, but it’s worth it. That family is important, but they don’t always know what’s good for you. That you are your own person, in charge of your own happiness, and that no one can take that from you.
I hope you have reached that point in life where you are happy with the person you are, inside and out. Where you are finally the best version of you that you believe you can possibly be. You have a beautiful soul (something too many people have already told you), and you should have let that beauty shine upon the world. They deserve it.
Lastly, I don’t know what direction your life has taken you professionally. But all I hope is that you still write. Either as a hobby or as part of your career, I hope you put your soul to paper as often as you can. Because I know this now, I knew it a while ago, and you will know it too – nothing helps you grow and soar to heights unknown with the joy that writing gives you.
I look forward to YOU.
P.S. Never forget, nothing beats a good hug, or a bowl of ice cream with good music and a book =)
Dear Ideal Me,
You are, in all manners, me! You have the same big brown eyes, the dark flowing hair, the mischievous smile – all of it. You love to read, have a wide taste in music, and love the little things. You think hugs are the best therapy (barring ice cream, of course! Because let’s face it, nothing can beat the warm glow you feel with that cold spoon of deliciousness). You are a sappy romantic who tries to hide it and fails miserably :P
Basically, you are me – just a slightly different, and better (possibly?), version of me! Who I may, or may not become someday.
I have stuff that holds me back. That stops me from doing some things because I over-evaluate them. Not that I am always conscientious and ponder consequences before actions, but yes, I do.
You on the other hand, are possibly yolo (ugh, how I hate using that word!) personified. Of the school of thought that you have only one life, you do whatever it is that you want to do and deal with the consequences in time. If you do get into trouble, at least you had fun getting there right? One day, I shall get there. I may never say yolo, but I’ll try to live life that way.
I have always had body image and self-confidence issues. I’ve preferred being in the background, with friends and other people who (I believed) looked better than I did. Not realising it was the way they carried themselves that made the difference, till recently.
You, on the other hand, are self-confident. You are sexy. You are beautiful. You know you have your flaws, but you work with them – not against them. You accept yourself, and change what you can. But you are always the best version of YOU. I will definitely be you, someday!
You are living the life you wanted. On your terms, with no asterisk about conditions applying. You have the swagger to bring entire masses to their knees, and to look gorgeous doing it. You will get to your dreams, because when you know what you want – you will damn well get it.
Here’s to the person I hope to be. Here’s to the person I will be.