Ciao Bellas,

Here’s something a bit different, a bit emotionally vulnerable today. That’s the point of a journal surely? To write secrets in it from time to time. Today I have written myself a love letter: a piece of creative writing that has set into motion an unleashing of what I’ve been bottling up inside. I have an impeccable memory, which is great for remembering facts and general knowledge quizzes- not so great for living in the present. And the present, in all meanings of the word, is a key aspect of Christmas time. After signing off this letter, I feel mentally free now, like my head is clearer. It’s helped me heal some niggling wounds and hopefully it can help others heal if they’re feeling lost too. So before we delve into it I’ll quickly discuss what inspired me to do such an emotional piece of writing. One thing encouraged me to do so:

It was a quote on a shopping bag.

When my mum came to visit me at the end of November she took me shopping for some new boots. We bought them in Parfois and on the bag it said this:

I felt inspired by it- of course during this festive period we are encouraged to show more love to our loved ones and friends, with gifts, food and quality time. Surely that should be a feeling, a mantra, we have all year round? Merry Everything and A Happy Always. I set these words as my phone screensaver, to remind myself that happiness is a feeling, it’s a lifestyle. These words, in my opinion, made me feel positive and good about myself. I was feeling encouraged to let the past go, to strive for a Merry Everything. That’s when I wrote this self-love letter:

Here we go, time to open the letter: (imagine a sparkly envelope of course)

Dear Myself,

Your heart is not scorched simply because you have not been in true love, or found it yet. Previous times you might have convinced yourself, hoping to discover a young love like your parents- but everyone has different storylines- destiny is truly unique, like our thumbprints or the spiral patterns of bark on a tree. Yes you have been burnt, like cigarette stubs whilst looking for it, but you are far from ashes on a damp ground.

The day that you are ashes on a damp ground will be the day people will be talking about the love you gave to them, scattering you to celebrate the richness of the emotion you ignited in their chests. The bright, starry story that you led. They will remember your light no matter if you were single or taken. So focus on your inner light- all your life- not your relationship status or your level of loneliness. As,

Friends will remember your adventures and your warm smile.

Family will remember your ‘interesting’ cooking, your moodiness in the mornings that was often funny and your jewels of advice.

Acquaintances will remember those times you helped them with work or carried their shopping- sad to hear of you departing- yet remembering how you glowed, even if momentarily, in their lives.

Maybe a lover will be there to miss you but the world will not stop if there isn’t one. Your love was still felt. Your life was still complete.

For now, sweet one…

You are twenty two. Breath. Even at thirty two, fourty two, fifty two…one hundred and two…breath.

It doesn’t matter if you have been on zero dates, ten dates or thirty five and they have all been…disastrous. Life is chaos, life is complex but it is not out to get you. Life is not the enemy. Your perception of it is. Because the more you wear your heart on your sleeve, mathematically the more you will increase heartbreak, it’s the logic of wear and tear. So be it! You’re discovering, you’re learning and you’re bloody brave. The world will not end if you’re still a virgin, or have slept with five people or eighteen. Just be safe. The person judging your sex life the most is you. Release that prejudice, now.

Take your time. Be proud of yourself when you take a risk and flirt back with the cute waiter in the coffee shop, even if the only outcome is he makes your coffee that little bit better, smoother and sweeter. Give up acting like you’re cold all the time, behaving in a guarded, coat of armour manner which is exhausting. Inject some light and love energy into your interaction with strangers, or the people who look at you on the street, maybe even friends of friends you don’t quite trust. Of course, be safe and trust your fizzy intuition when it bubbles in your tummy but be kind over being cold when you can. Uncross your arms. Unclench your jaw. Breath. See, existing is easy.

Do not regret downloading a dating app, it is becoming a norm to meet people that way. You’re not following a sheep society by doing this, you’re simply dipping your toes in the water of options. Look at it briefly if it overwhelms you. Check it how you check your daily horoscope, curiously but with a carefree attitude.

Moreover, do not let a dating app or a text message distract you from the magic of life. I strongly believe a love like the ones in classic literature can be found- cultivated- otherwise we wouldn’t write about it, we wouldn’t read it and memorise our favourite lines. Life is literature. 2019 was the first draft. 2020 will be the best seller.

The only thing that should be settling is the dust on your bookcase. Never, ever your heart. Wait. Wait until you meet someone devoted and utterly besotted with you. Someone who treats your skin and thoughts like a holy tapestry. If the waiting for this kind, true person gets tough, dogs 100% help and can encompass unconditional love.

You are nearly 22 and you are feeling silly about some of your choices. Not your educational choices, because studying you did right. Not your friendship choices, despite the odd dramatic clingy friend here and there; your close friends adore and support you. Eternally. I just know that right now you simply feel silly about:

~The boyfriend you had when you were 18 who was completely mismatched to your creative soul. Let his insecurities go.

~The love interest you had at university when you were 19-20 who was an illusion, whom you had glorified by wearing rose coloured long distance glasses. Let his cowardly silence go.

~The summer flings you had when you were 21. Recently. 2 men far too confusing and dark for you. You are not put on this earth to fight other people’s battles. Certainly not their unseen battles. Let their inner demons go.

These people haunt you. Don’t give them that gothic luxury. Be forgetful for once and ignore it, unravel the stitches of the tiny, nasty details that are embroidered in your memory.

The connection with them now is so weak, so tethered, so tatty. Cut it. Let it go. Wash their sticky fingerprints from your tired heart and let it pump your youthful blood again. Fresh heartbeats are printing new moments into your future. Every second.

Remember the men who, yes they were not your soulmate(s) but they certainly didn’t cause any damage. They cared and they have unknowingly painted memories with you- memories worthy of poetry. Cheerful, golden, young moments. We are all young even when we’re old:

~The one that took you for a meal on Valentines Day and looked after you when you were ill. (2019)

~The one that took you to the beach and the arcade and let you play country music in his car. (2018)

~The one that went to the library with you many times during your first year of university. (2017)

~The one who got pizza delivered to your house when you were seventeen because he was trying to apologise. (2015)

~The one who you kissed by a river when you were sixteen and he still waves at you if he sees you in the car. (2014)

These ‘ones’ if they were to enter into the room right now, they would cause you no pain. Some are even friends. There were others at university who popped up , asking for temporary attention…allowing you to discover that other people consider dating as insignificant… clearly only one thing is on their mind. You said no and they disappeared. Two letters “n & o” and they scattered. Like moths when you switch off a lamp. These were lessons about how thirsty physical lust can make people. Thank your darling friends who protected you from creeps- from the moths flying around your light.

Let all of the people you gave a chance to- let them all be the glue when you think about searching for love, let those sweet gestures or awkward encounters seal up the cracks of what the minority of true dickheads created, the ones that broke your heart a bit. What the “cretinos” (an Italian insult) trampled on. Life is about balance. There are good guys and bad guys. Have peace and space especially for the good ones and the ones mature enough to be you’re friends. Yet wish them all well.

Make a wish next time you’re at the Trevi Fountain actually. Even though there are police officers nowadays who blow their whistle every time someone throws a coin and makes a wish, do it anyway. Banning wishes is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever seen. Human beings carry so much hurt, please just let us wish into water, into a historical pool of gods and ruin. That’s what humans are after all. We are godly thought in bodies that cannot escape time’s crumbling.

That’s what love is. It’s a risk. It’s a puncture in time. It defies all reason. It’s a wish that blossoms into truth. Block out the outside world that judges your truth and never regret something which, at the time, made you close your eyes, dream and smile.

Because maybe one day your eyes will be open, your mouth will be smiling and your truth/your dreams will be inside a person standing before you. Adoring you. Understanding you. Validating you. Respecting you. Whether that be for a few months, years or if you’re lucky…most of a life time. They will be loving you.

For now, I send all my self love, for my old soul and young body to dance in.

I am grateful to my past but it no longer owns my emotions. So, until I meet Mr Satchel Man…

Love,

Myself.

Georgia x

All words above are my own, but here are some extra inspiring quotes below: