An Open Letter To Myself

….well, a letter to twenty-year-old me.

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Dear Self,

First, you’re going to be okay. Divorce is scary, but it’s not the end of the world.

Second, you’re autistic. I know you think you have some terminal illness because you get so tired after being around people. It’s okay. You’re autistic. And you’re going to be so relieved when you find out.

Third, you will fall in love again.

Fourth, the divorce was about him…not you. He’s been divorced three more times since you.

Fifth, you’re brilliant. And you can write. You just have to believe enough in yourself to try.

Now, stop crying into the ice cream.

He’s not worth it.

You’re going to be fine.

Love,

Me

 

Puff loves GubGub.

One thing that stood out to me at the RT Convention last year was the number of authors who talked about how their significant others weren’t supportive. Their husbands (or wives or whatever) treated their writing as a hobby. At best, it seemed completely dismissive to me.

It made me appreciate my husband even more. He’s always encouraged me to follow any path or dream I had even the one time I thought I could become a soap mogul. Don’t ask. It didn’t end well. =)

He always takes my copies of my paperbacks and shrink wraps them to make sure they don’t get damaged. He’s so cute. He plans to have a special bookshelf just for my books.

And I think my heart grew three sizes. lol

It’s the little things that always remind me how much I love and appreciate my husband.

Like how he leaves love letters in random spots in my notebooks…address to Puff from GubGub. (Don’t ask.)

We do romance in our own way, but it’s remarkable and special because of it.