So I really suck at keeping up with this blog, but I’m going to do my best to get back into it. I’m going to worry less about being perfect and worry more about getting out content. This post is a reaction to a letter written by a friend of mine, which was taken up by Thought Catalog.
“My Dearest Amanda,
I know your friends call you Mandy, but I think Amanda is so much more sacred, so much more graceful. Before I tell you how much I love you, I need to thank you for a few things. First of all, thank you for your shitty childhood. Yes, I know, it was out of your control. What was in your control, though, was your choice to grow out of it. In the midst of disaster, you decided you weren’t going to be crushed. You decided to grow, instead.
That’s another thing, thank you for being so grown. I know you like to pretend that you are young. You say you like to go out and you spend long nights with friends. I know you, though. I know you like a glass of wine and a book over anything. I know you’d rather have a conversation than a drink.
On the other hand, thank you for being so god damn immature. You frustrate me so much. You always need to be right. You’re so passive aggressive. You’re the messiest person I’ve ever met, and yet your inbox is always clear. That’s something I don’t understand.
Thank you for fucking up. Like, horribly. You seriously went on a date that got you a $500 ticket? That’s adorable. You failed classes? That’s human. You said no to commitments? Thank god.
Thank you for taking a break from dating to face yourself. You talk about your “dry spell” constantly and how happy you are that it’s over. But how would you have even found that dance club we met at? If you were always at dates would you have had time to invest in salsa lessons or your photography or that thriving blog of yours? I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think we would have ever happened if you kept seeking out men to fill your dread of the real you.
See, because out of that that pained, horny, artsy disaster that dry spell came a woman. She had found a way to balance love and a career. She found a way to be a leader and a caretaker at once. She had hobbies and opinions and drive. She had a job. She worked out when she wanted and ate what she wanted and said what she wanted. She traveled and backpacked and hiked. See, the woman you are came from the woman you were, and that’s the woman I fell in love with.
And let me just tell you about the woman I fell in love with. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever set eyes on. She’s so confident, yet somehow she shares her heart with everyone she meets. She’s the type of woman who notices people. She talks to everyone, from the cashier to the homeless lady we pass every day (I love that, Amanda). She wants to give to the world but for some reason she also gives so much to me. She is raw. She is changing the world. She only wants good for people. She can make an entire room laugh. She can laugh over an entire room. She is a beacon of grace and leadership and talent. There is no other woman I will ever want to be with, because my Amanda is enough for a million lifetimes.
So yeah, I decided to write you a love letter on a Tuesday morning. The coffee’s on. I’ll see you tonight, gorgeous.
Japanese or Ethiopian tonight? I think Ethiopian…I’m feeling handsy. 😉