C is for choices

Dear Little Baby Kendra,
          Hey, little baby. How are your toes? Good? Good.
You have no idea, yet, but life is going to get very strange for you. You are going to get freaked out by all of the weirdness that's happening in your days and in your head and you're gonna make some pretty unpopular decisions.

It's okay, though, because you're going to be young and dumb and confused. I'm here to deal with the mess you've made. That's what I am here for and I'm good at it. I can't really hold it against you because I'm still making choices Future Kendra will have to deal with.

I wish I could tell you not to drop out of school. I wish I could tell you not to date the conspiracy theorist with anger issues, that guy is bad news. And I wish I could tell you not to freak out and run away at every life change.
But you wouldn't listen, even if I could, would you? No. Because no one tells you what to do, right?

Yeah, that's still a thing you do. You also never really get over playing the drop game. Or with your toes. You're still kind of a dumb baby.

Listen: I've gotten to the point to where your choices no longer keep me up at night. Finally. And I've even accepted the words I would say to you, if I could, for myself and my choices:

It's life, little baby. Now: shhhhhhh. Calm down, it's okay, you're okay.

I've got you.


Love,
Present Kendra