Letters to My Younger Selves
By: Danika Bloom
Tags: Ideas, Humor, This Happened To Me, Advice, Life Lessons

Letter to Myself at 19

Dear Sweet, Naïve Danika,

Take a breath and just listen: Stop judging people. Just stop that shit right now!

That book you read and those teachings you’ve embraced — they weren’t meant to be used to show the world and the heavens that you’re better than others.

Or maybe they were. Damned if I know.

But one thing I do know for sure is that in one year you’ll learn, in the hardest way possible, that your belief that girls who get themselves in trouble deserve the consequences is absolute and utter bullshit. Figuring this out will almost kill you.

Obviously, you will survive, but the sooner you can embrace and practice both compassion and self-compassion the happier you’ll be.

Letter to Myself at 29

Dear Self-loathing Danika,

Have you forgotten what I told you at the end of the letter I sent you when you were 19? Apparently, you have so I’ll tell you again: Practice self-compassion.

It sucks that all the specialists, with all their tests, say you’ll never be able to have a baby. Being told you’ll never carry a fetus past three months sucks. Grieve that, but stop believing that your infertility issues are a direct result of what happened when you were twenty. The self-loathing is unproductive and desperately misguided.

Listen carefully: This is not God punishing you.

And guess what? All those doctors were wrong. So don’t give up your apartment because three weeks before you’re meant to leave for a year in West Africa, working with OXFAM, you’ll learn that you’re three months pregnant and six months after that you’ll have no more reason for self-loathing — but lots of reasons to question experts!

Letter to Myself at 39

Dear Dumbass Danika,

I’m sorry, but I can’t stop laughing at you. What were you thinking? First off, encouraging your husband to have an affair? Really, how did you expect that would end? I know, I know, little miss Pollyanna, poly-danika thought you could have the best of all worlds. Of course, it won’t work out the way you expect but the lesson comes from what you do next. That’s why I’m writing to you.

Get this through your thick head: Age forty is not your Best Before Date.

Seriously…you’re smarter than buying into that whole pop culture BS that you’ll be undatable, unlovable and unfuckable the day you hit forty… so give yourself some time to grieve the end of what was a pretty good marriage.

And, no, three weeks is not enough time after a fourteen-year relationship. Dr. Phil was right on this one, as much as you’ll hate to admit that.

What you’ll be happy to know is that you don’t need a man to survive. You’ll rock the whole single mom thing. And you’ll kick-ass as a fully financially and emotionally independent woman once you give yourself a chance to try.

But still, I have to remind you about this little-not-little thing called self-compassion? You’re a smart woman, but Jesus, you can be a dumbass, sometimes. Take your own advice and practice some self-love. Please. This is getting boring.

Letter to Myself at 49

Took you long enough! I was starting to wonder if you’d ever get here.

Enjoy the next fifty years! You’ve earned it.