Dear 25-year-old-self,

I know things feel hard right now. I know you feel lost. But, you’re not.

In these moments when you feel like a failure, it’s impossible to imagine that you’ll look back and feel pride. You will. You worked hard even when you felt like giving up. You held it together when it felt like it would all come apart.

And, believe it or not, F doesn’t know a thing about it. He thinks you have the best life.

Thirteen years later, you’re going to look back on the day you walked into that seedy apartment to find all of your belongings gone and you won’t feel despair and hopelessness. You’ll actually feel powerful, because you learned how to fight your corner that day. When you think back on the lonely nights you spent missing F while you were in school and he was in Cape Breton, you’ll be reminded that you always had the tools to do what it took for him. And you used them. (And you never do get used to how long that drive is.)

You’re going to have a couple of heartbreaks in the next few years. You’re going to fall hard, more than once, and it’s going to take time to dust yourself off but you’ll do it. But d’ya know what? You found him. And he’s everything you wanted in a partner and then some.

Remember how you always said you’d have three boys? Well, you were right. You do. You also finally got the greyhound you begged Mom and Dad for. She’s annoying but you love her anyway.

You’re going to make some career moves and take risks that scare the crap out of you. You’ll get laid off a few times, and you’ll come back stronger with new, bigger opportunities to stretch your skills and spread your wings. You’ll launch a business and run it for months with a newborn baby in your arms. It’s going to be hard as hell, but you’ll do it.

Speaking of doing things, you’re going to do a lot of things you thought you never would. You’ll have plastic surgery, get Botox and filler (yep, you fake bitch! (kidding!)) and you’ll make friends with people you didn’t think you could bridge your differences with. You’ll travel solo to big cities you always dreamt of. You’ll buy a house. And you drive an SUV now. (I know.)

If I could give you advice right now, it would be to stop worrying about the little things. Forget about the number on the scale. Eat more protein and stop counting calories.

Don’t say “yes” unless it lights up your soul.

And never stop writing for you.

Trust your gut.

Don’t back down.

You really aren’t ever going to wear those yellow pants, so don’t buy them.

There’s a difference between being nice and being naive.

You deserve a seat at the table.

And, I’m proud of you.