A love just sent me this:
Gosh, I love watching those kids sing. Such a beautiful thing. And AND such an awkward thing.
Remember that age? How awkward you were. Looking back at pictures and not knowing what to think. Laughing, trying not to look directly at the old you.
Gosh. A little bit after this age, I became embarrassed of who I was. So gangly, so awkward, no real friends yet, typical weirdo kid. I was just me and so confused as why I was the way I was, thinking I should be something different, someone different.
Now, everyday, I strive to me more like that girl.
She wanted to know who she would be. I want to remember who I was. Be her more.
She wanted to be less awkward. I know there’s no changing that; time to embrace it, love it.
I love looking back at me and being so approving of her. “You are SO cool, Little Rachel. And you are gonna be juuuuuust fine.”
No more wondering who I’ll be, what I’ll be. No more being jealous of everyone I see, because they’re not me.
“You are SO cool, Older Rachel. And you are gonna be juuuuuust fine.”