Little me

If I could tell little me what I know now, I'd jump at the chance. I'd tell her it gets better. I'd tell her it won't always be easy and that sometimes, it'll hurt so much that she'll want to run away. More than that, she'll want to escape. She'll spend sleepless nights engulfed in darkness, swallowed by pain she had tried to numb with alcohol. She'll gamble with more than just her money and she'll ache to just sleep.

I'll explain to her that so many times she'll be beaten but one day, she'll have someone to pick her up. She'll never spend much time without a man by her side and some of them she'll love more than others. Some, she won't love at all.

She won't see what's it front of her and when she does, she needs to know to hang in there. She needs to take his smiles and his affection and let them keep her warm at night until he's around to do it himself. And he will be, he just needs time. And so does she. She needs time to get over her own demons and she needs to learn to let him help her. He'll do that too.

I'd also tell her his embrace will warm her to her bones and she'll feel so protected that all the hurt will fade away for now. I'd tell her the way his hot breath feels against the back of her neck as he sleeps against her should be enough to make her always always fight.

I'd tell her she'll have wedding after wedding and each followed by another divorce. If shes lucky; if they don't end in a funeral. But I'd also tell her she'll have one wedding that won't end in that way. In fact, it won't end at all. I'd tell her she'll never get over the loss of her first baby girl but that when she finally becomes a mother, it is that memory that makes her stronger each day. It is that memory that makes her hold their daughter tighter than usual, kiss her head while she sleeps, tell her she is loved so very much.

I'd tell her she has a future and a life so filled with love she can't possibly imagine. I'd tell her she doesn't have to change at all. Because he loves her exactly how she is, no matter how moody she gets without a glass of wine to wash down her chocolate. I'd tell her people will doubt her, doubt them. Especially the first day she wears a tight blouse and her bump is visible as she struts around work with fake confidence. But I'd assure her, she will win.

Little one, you'll out last all of them, you and him. And when they tell you you're a good mother, you won't even doubt them. Partly because you'll know he tells you that all the time and partly because of the way your daughter's eyes twinkle when she sees you.

You recognise that look because it's one you never knew when you were that age, did you? Did we?

It's happiness.

I'd tell her, I'd explain, I'd beg her even, just to hang on. I'd let her cry herself to sleep because no matter how she pretends she doesn't care that she has no friends, rejection is her biggest fear and it hurts so incredibly much.

I'd tell her, she'll be so much more than okay one day and that in years to come, when people ask if shes happy and she says yes, she won't be lying.

Lastly, I'd tell her to always hold his hand because nothing in the world will ever be more okay than that.

I'd tell her she will be okay.

We will be okay.

I am okay.