Meeting my Younger Self

I met my younger self for coffee.

We both just made it in time. 

I gave her a hug when I saw her.

She looked uncomfortable as I wrapped my arms around her.

I wore my hair straight down.

She wore her hair in intricate braids, slightly messy because she had done them herself.

I had on a sweater and jeans.

She wore leggings and a hoodie.

She looked nervous to talk to someone older than her, but 

I sat down with her calmly.

She couldn’t believe she was ordering her first “big girl drink:” a strawberry Frappuccino.

I ordered a cappuccino.

She told me that she was nervous to start middle school and that she didn’t feel like she was anyone’s number one. I assured her that middle school was a lot of fun and that she would accomplish her dreams in that time. I told her that she would find her people and she would come out of her shell. She kept a stoic face, but as I listened, I felt tears drop down my cheeks.

She told me that she felt outcast socially and awkward all the time - I told her that I would get more comfortable with new people. She told me that she was worried about what other people thought about her and that she was disliked and judged - I told her it doesn’t matter. She told me she was worried about maintaining her grades - I told her that I was, too. I saw admiration in her eyes as she complimented my outfit before we left. I hugged her, feeling her relax a little bit more in my arms. I whispered to her, “Everything will work out in the end. When one window is closed, another door opens somewhere better.”