A Letter to My Younger Self: Dear Morgan
Good morning Coffey Break readers!
Life is beautiful and you know it. You’re sweet sixteen! Your parents have put together a sleep over, spa day, luncheon, and shopping trip that you could only dream of. You’ve had such a happy life and growing up has shown you that not everyone has been given the same gift. What could possibly plague the girl with a wonderful family, great friends, her own lavender bedroom and a huge shelf of books?
You have managed to escape the awful teenage angst that has wrecked some others. But, there is one little hang up. Your weight. You are 95 pounds soaking wet and everyone from passerby on the street to your extended family members have something to say about it. You wear blue jeans not only because they’re comfortable, but because you can’t stand another comment on your skinny legs. People’s inconsiderate word vomits on your appearance are mind blowing and it has made you self-conscious.
You have battled it all of your life, and your weight even gets you into your first fight with a girl who equates petite with pushover. You are peaceful like your father, but your mother has a tendency to come out in full effect when a quick jab to her eye ends the fight quickly. People also judge your character believing that because you’re thin you must be a vapid, shallow, control freak as one person admits at a teen volunteer group. “But, you’re really not like that!” she beams as if that at all helps. You are weary with sixteen years of defending yourself, and you are blessed to have parents who quickly check anyone they hear making unwarranted remarks. When will it end?