A letter to my past self.

A Child of Worry and Woe

Five is not a very nice number for a child to start noticing their body, but five it was for me.

So almost ten years later, I wish on shooting stars if I could just whisper in that little girl’s ear to soothe her worries and shut out her insecurities.

Little girl, I wish to whisper, don't you worry about your soft belly, nor your soft full cheeks.

Don’t cry yourself, sugar of a child, over a body yet to take shape. For you will grow, and you will change.

O little girl, you’re sweating like crazy with all those layers on your body, but that’s the point, no? to hide yourself in clothes. Drowning yourself in fabric to draw away the attention from your chubby figure.

Sweet girl, what is your body but a vessel? A vessel to latch onto that pure soul of yours.

 A means to carry out your life, a house to store away your memories.

A child you are with all your sweet rolls and chubbiness, a child you will cease to be when your body grows.

Your weight will change and fluctuate, for at times you’ll feel heavy and burdened by your skin, while at others, you’ll feel so light you could be swept away by the wind.

And oh, sugar pie, do not despise those who are skinnier than you, those who do not give a second thought to their appearance, to their weight.

Jealousy is a vile thing, and given that they are normal happy children, is no fault of theirs but a necessity that should be planted in every child’s heart.

Such thoughts do not form overnight sweet child. They’re the results of snide comments from strangers, petty ones from friends, and judgmental ones from relatives.

Do not heed them thought, for If they were content with themselves, they wouldn’t attempt to find fault in others to satisfy their own inner insecurities.