To Charlotte: Part One

The person, not the city. To be read when you’re ready, which I recognize you won’t know until you know. This is part one of the X amount of letters I’ll write you between now and forever.

Spreading ashes like memories

across a lifetime of lifting heavy things
so Charlotte has a well-lit path
to laugh lines spanning years


I hope this world gives you everything you’ll ever want, but not without feeling things deeply. Good and bad things, wonderful and scary and nerve-wracking things. And of course I don’t want those bad things for you, but there will be things that I won’t be able to stop; feelings that I won’t be able to build a wall high enough to keep from seeping into your bones. But my hope is that you’ll learn to feel these things regardless because you’ll know you’ll be better off than to not feel at all.

Here are some things that I hope will bring you guidance and a sense of withness that you’ll carry with you through all of the living that is yet to come:

People will be wrong about you. They’ll get it all wrong–who you are, what you do, how you love, and the way you live this life. They’ll be wrong. And when they are, it’s okay to sometimes let them be wrong. They were not all meant to know your full truth. Not right away. Not in this moment. You are not seen in the same light by everyone around you. Expecting everyone to see and understand the greatest things in you without seeing you go through the mud first is not always going to work.

When those who don’t get you come around, let them dissolve themselves. Pay them no mind. Your time of day is not something owed to them, it’s owed to you. Showing up is one of the most radical and important things you can do for yourself. If you learn this the hard way, know that I will be here to remind you of all the loveliness in your bones.

Some people will get you. They’ll be slow to comprehend who you are fully. It’ll be on purpose; they’ll want to take their time in knowing everything about you: how your voice trembles when you’re scared, how anxious you’ll feel when the spotlight is on you because all you want in that moment is to be hidden in your bed, how excited you’ll be when you finally reach the tip of competence with something you really love.

Creating a space for those people in your life will be healing in ways you can’t imagine at first, but will show themselves with time. And with said mud. And heart-to-heart talks about what you’re struggling with in this life. They’ll show up for you when you don’t necessarily know how to show up for yourself, and they’ll sometimes fail you, but they’ll know, then, just how important it is to get it right the next time. Your importance to them will become clear and you’ll find what it means to forgive.

There’s a great big world with which you’ll be tasked with living in. I’ll be honest: it’s completely terrifying to not know who you are and what you want to do. I hope you’ll sit with that feeling a little bit, allow it to take hold of you, and feel buoyed in a direction that you’re uncomfortable with at first, but that you’ll later be so grateful for.

People will love you. And people will say that they love you but won’t really know what it means to love people.

Learning to question e v e r y t h i n g will be one quick way to learn about who you are and what you believe your purpose is. It will hurt, too, to know that some things you’ve been taught in this life are not as they seem. What I mean is this: be curious about all the things that don’t sit right with you. Everything that makes you scratch your head or brings discomfort to your heart will be things that you don’t yet know and haven’t come to understand. Yet. You’ll wrestle with the “yet” but please. End your sentences of all the things you don’t understand with -yet-. Things will find their way into your heart and this simple word will give you the tools to find understanding.

All of the soured relationships are not worth being right. Even if you’re right. Even if you’re the rightest of rights. Even if you’re wrong. Even if you’re the wrongest of wrongs and don’t even know it. People will be more important than your need to have the last laugh. You don’t have to be everyone’s teacher all the time. Sometimes they’ll need you to sidestep backwards in a stagger you’re not familiar with. Let them learn on their own.

On that note, I hope you never feel like you’re a walking apology for everyone who will listen. You do not need to apologize for existing, for wanting to make the world feel again. For being incredibly, genuinely, unapologetically yourself. It’s okay to be wrong and own it. It’s okay to not understand what being wrong looks like. It’s not okay to be wrong and hurt all of the people around you because of it.

What I’m trying to say, Charlie, is that I love you. Like I’ve never loved something or someone. I’m doing what I know to be true in my heart. I’m creating as much as I can so that this world has a manual you can survive with. I don’t know all of the answers, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t give them to you. The sheltered life isn’t a life you deserve. You do, however, deserve a life you can examine from 10,000 feet above all of your wildest dreams, all of your biggest worries, and away from everyone so you can think straight. So you can feel deep everything that comes your way.

I love you. And I will be there. When I can’t anymore, carry me with you.

Published by Robbie Williford

Writer from Flint, Michigan. Partial but slowly becoming. Educator. Storyteller. Bashful. Paying attention to the quiet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: