A Letter to My Younger Self By Stayce Robinson

Dear Stacye 1997, 

Love yourself. No one else can do that for you. This seems impossible at fifteen but you have to learn somehow. Nothing else will get you through this beautiful but trying life. 

Embarrassment is not a fatal condition no matter how much high school might lead you to believe it is. You are powerful because you know how to weep down into your bones. You know you might’ve made a great Juliet in the ninth-grade school play. Sure, the role wasn’t made for an overweight girl with cerebral palsy in a power wheelchair. Still, I’m proud of you for trying because it wasn’t the role they wanted you to play. 

Who are they? Some of them are other kids who think you don’t belong in public school, influenced by parents who think your presence in their kids’ lives is an act of grave political significance. Alleged adults will tell you in your classes that they have been unsure of your intellect because you are unsure of yourself. They will write concerning notes on your report card about your startling lack of a social life. 

You’re fifteen. You cannot actually remake society. The loud-mouthed women in your life will sometimes encourage you to try. Silent serious persistence aimed at specific goals is more your way, that’s all right. 

Your brain cannot save you from your body. Also, your heart’s a mess. The good news is, the world is bigger than Richmond, Indiana where you now live. 

At fifteen, you have two friends– maybe three. All of them are gorgeous boys–two blonds and one whose hair is auburn. None of them love you “like that.” Sometimes, you think that because the blond one cannot feel your love, you won’t survive but you do. 

Your Mamaw and Papaw met at ten, married at eighteen and were married til they died. You have anxiety that you will fall behind. You won’t. You’ll have three whole weddings. 

The bad news is, being loved “like that” still won’t save you from your disabled body. Your husband can’t know what to say or do when the stuff of your life is spoken of in terms of price ADL’s and units. You have to love yourself, because then you are free no matter what anyone else does. Jesus loves you so it doesn’t serve Him not to love yourself.

You are a curious girl, I love that about you. You will try to reshape your body and thoughts in at least a million different ways over the next twenty-seven years. Try not to be terrified of the woman you’ll become who neither diets nor dyes her hair. Life without other women’s beauty rituals doesn’t have to be scary. 

It’s not your fault you were born and therefore take up space. Trust yourself more. You can’t be able-bodied , but you can be yourself which is pretty great, I love you, dear child. At least, I’m trying. 

Love, 

Stacye 2026

About the Author

Image Description: Woman in her thirties in a blue sundress and shawl holds a yellow bouquet, smiling.

Artist Bio

Stayce Robinson lives in Indianapolis with her husband Ryne and graduated with a master of arts in creative writing from Ball State University in 2013.