I met my younger self for Coffee

I met my younger self for coffee. She was 30 minutes early and already waiting for me, anxiously stirring her vanilla iced latte.

Her blonde hair was freshly highlighted and straight as she looked around visibly uncomfortable. I could tell by her body language she wanted to disappear; to be unseen and invisible — afraid of being perceived and harshly judged the way she always was.

As I walk over to sit with her, she takes me in. With my long pink hair flowing down my back in soft waves and a book tucked under my arm, I give her a friendly smile as i sit down with my iced coffee.

She stares at my hair — most likely thinking that she can’t believe we finally dyed our hair something other than a shade of blonde. Diverting her eyes, she looks down at the book I now placed on the table. The title “The Almost Bride” by Sienna Waters stares back at her, but she seems laser focused on one part on the book’s cover — “From Bestselling Lesbian Romance Author” and she seems to freeze with confusion written all over her face.

She then looks at our left hand and takes notice of the ring on our finger — yes that kind of ring.

She mumbles quietly that we never wanted to get married and almost sounds let down as she starts fidgeting and looking at me with a million unasked questions.

She’s unsure of herself, so she doesn’t ask any of them, but I know her — I know exactly how she’s feeling and what she wants to say.

I smile softly back at her and tell her it’s okay to feel what she does in this moment. To be unsure about herself and her dreams — that’s she’s still young and it’s perfectly fine to not know ourselves yet. That she’s been through so much already and it’s understandable that she’s confused on things.

Finally she speaks in a delicate tone, though anxious, and asks how we’re doing and where we ended up. She tells me she doesn’t believe there is a place for her in this world and she doesn’t understand how we made it this far when she could never quite see past her almost 18 years of life.

Being honest with her, I tell her we made it in our own little way — with a few bumps along the road and many tears shed over the years. That we had to fall and begin again many times and pick ourselves up. That no matter what this life throws at us, we’ve continued to persevere and try again.

That eventually somewhere along the way we find ourselves — we truly and honestly finally find us. We discover parts of us that finally click and make sense and we come out. That it isn’t easy at first — in fact it’s actually terrifying, but we surround ourselves with a healthy support system full of found family and friends and embrace our truest selves.

I tell her we start therapy as well and find our outlet through our blog.

She has unshed tears in her blue eyes as she whispers a question — it’s about the ring.

I can feel the warmth and happiness radiating through my body as I tell her about the one. How lovely she is — how she makes us feel seen and loved entirely. How safe she makes not only the current us feel, but how safe all versions of us feel with her. Finally safe to be us to the fullest with no judgement at all.

Her tears are now flowing freely — something she rarely allows to be seen — and I can tell she feels a sense of relief. Relief that it might truly all be okay eventually.

We finish our coffee and our conversation and I hug her goodbye — giving her the hug she’s always needed and we go our separate ways.