För att komma igång med mitt skrivande lite mer har jag skapat ett lite skrivprojekt. På engelska, för på något sätt tycker jag det är lättare att låte språket flöda då. Projektet kallar jag för "letters", och innebär helt enkelt att jag ska skriva brev till mig själv. Mitt dåtida och framtida jag. Vilka brev jag ska skriva varierar lite. Denna gången är det:

A letter to my younger self trying to seek validation

Hey there, you – Julia somewhere between the age of 15-today? I mean as a human being you probably never stop seeking for validation. It is so deeply rooted into human existence that it will most likely follow us into the grave. However, every day I realize I seek less validation from others, and more from myself. I want to be happy by my own, not because of someone else’s opinion. But frankly, there are still things I do to impress others. Like putting on a façade at work, or creating a LinkedIn profile with a black and white picture to pretend I am more professional than I am.

However, dear younger Julia, the validation you receive from others at the age of 15 is fake. Look at the friends that really stayed. Did they care about your weight? Did they care about your far too marked eyebrows? How you turned pale as a ghost during winter and hated yourself for that? What work you did or who you slept with? No, they did not even pay a thought to it. And If they did, they never told you. And even if they did, and never told you, it never mattered to them. They did still stick to your side.

What about validation from boys then? Well, younger Julia, how many of those boys are still in your life? NONE. How many are hunting your anxiety? Many. So, what have we learned? Validation from boys is fraud. It is only temporary and will only make you feel better for like a day or two. The guy, who now is a stranger, telling you that you are beautiful, only did it because he tried to get into your pants. I am sorry to say, but it is the truth. And the guy you cheated with on your ex? Was it worth it? I am not trying to slut-shame you, my younger self. I actually wish I could hold your hand at this moment and tell you that everything is going to be alright.Your real friends stuck with you at that moment. Sure, you lost some, which is only fair. But the real ones, the ones who still loves to hear your voice when you are drunk at 3 AM and who will still be invited to your wedding, they are still there. And it will hurt. It will hurt so much you will consider if it hurts less to get hit by a car. But you will never cross at red. Because somewhere deep down you knew that life would get better. And it did, and I am so proud of you. I am so proud that you got out of terrible relationships. I am so proud that you stopped putting your fingers in your throat. I am so proud that you moved away, far from your comfort zone. And I am so proud, and thankful, that you travelled. But most of all, I am so proud and happy of all the steps you have taken and all the decisions you made. Because here you are today. At the age of 24 with a boy you love so much you still stalk his social media accounts after 2 ½ years. You are here. Still breathing. Still loving. Still radiating so much positive energy onto others. Maybe not exploring the world at the moment or curating the world. But good things come to those who wait, right? You will just wait and see.