On the Internet, in the land of social networking, our deepest feelings and thoughts intermingle with our opinions on twerking. It is here that our past falls over our present, connecting us to childhood friends and work contemporaries. It is a place of emotion and avoidance, of truth and disguise. It is a reflection of life, concentrated.
This morning, a friend posted a graphic that said, “If you could write a note to your younger self, what would you say, in only two words?”
The answer came fast, almost unbidden, from my hands. Run sooner.
Run sooner. That is the advice I would give my younger self.
Run sooner. Run before they hurt you too much. Run the first time it happens. Run as soon as you can. Run now. Pack a bag. Take what you need. Take off. Run in the cold, if that’s when you can. Run with nothing, if that’s all you’ve got. Run with nowhere to go, as long as you’re running from.
Run sooner. There’s no value in waiting. They will never change. Ever. It’s been more than 20 years and I’m still waiting (and waiting to stop waiting.) Don’t expect them to be something they have never shown you they can be. People don’t change, and even if they do, they won’t do it in time. Run now.
Run sooner. Run when her hands land on you. Run when his hands destroy you. Run from the rules – rules that do not raise you or refine you, but rather imprison and confine you. Run now. Run right now.
Don’t wait until you have someone to save you, because most people are not saviors. Most people will be afraid of your life and your intensity and your instinct for self-destruction. You will be alone, and alone is scary. You will lose yourself and that is scarier. Still, run. Run faster, run quieter, run sooner.
If I could go back and hold my own hands and look into my own eyes, I would say “Run.”
PS: I would also say don’t pierce your own belly button. It will only end in tears.