A few weeks ago, the fabulous gals over at Dear Teen Me invited me to participate on their site. I knew what I was going to write about. I just didn't know what I'd tell myself about it. After days of reminiscing and crying, I finished my letter (significantly shortened from the first version) and sent it off.
I have to admit, I feel kind of vulnerable. Close family and friends know about this event in my life, and I have posted a poem about it on my blog in the past, but a letter to myself was much harder. This was a private conversation between me at seventeen and the present day me, and now it's public. Eek.
But that's why I write YA. The teenage years are so influential and, at times, very difficult. So many happy/sad/shocking/heartbreaking/life-changing events happen when we're teens. I have yet to meet a teen who says their life is perfect or easy. And I've yet to meet an adult who doesn't have some significant memories from that time in their life. We can all relate in one way or another.
Being a young adult is not all rainbows and butterflies. If you'd like to read about my darkest of days, you can read my letter to my teen self by clicking here.
MMGM -- Diego's Dragon
18 hours ago