Tweeting through tears

what would I tell my 18 year old self

There was a hashtag trending on Twitter yesterday which choked me up with tears. What would you tell your 18-year-old self? I was in tears as I thought of that mixed up, messed up girl who was me all those years ago. Where would I start?

I managed to phrase two tweets that said something of what I would want to tell the 18-year-old me if I could, but in 140 characters you can’t express how excruciatingly painful it is for you to even think about this, you can’t say that you’re writing this while crying because if only…

I weep now as I think of that messed up girl, so hurting, so longing for love, intimacy, acceptance, a sense of belonging… trading sex as the only currency she could offer to get that feeling, because in her early teens she was taught that this is the way it is in the world of grown-ups and she desperately wanted to be accepted into that world. Her older brother had been the centre of her life and he had left home and emigrated when she was 15, leaving her without her anchor, so – not conscious of why she was doing it – she went looking for love among people of his age group.

So much agony over so many years, so many heart breaks, so many people she gave herself to, but each of them at some point would – as human beings do – let her down. It’s not that they were all bad people. Most of them were probably doing the same thing she was doing – looking for that deep sense of intimacy and acceptance and unconditional love that we all long for, but looking for it in the wrong place.

If only she had known Jesus back then. If only she had known God’s love – the only place where we can really find that total, unfailing, unconditional love that we yearn for. If only…

These were the tweets I wrote yesterday. Through tears.

What I'd tell the 18 year old me

Questions? Thoughts? Talk to me - I don't bite :)

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