“Reflecting Our Communities”

On Friday I got a confusing email from someone who’d read an article about me in Brooklyn Family magazine. I’d done the interview back in January and didn’t realize it had come out, but passed a kiosk moments after reading the email and found myself on a two-page spread! So I ended the week on a high note but this weekend has not been very productive. Right now I’m supposed to be writing a letter to my younger self, but it’s HARD and I keep putting it off even though it was due last week. PBS is on a pledge drive so there’s nothing to watch, and I’m caught up on the latest episode of Vikings. I spend so much time thinking about my childhood…I don’t know why this letter leaves me stumped. My friend also suggested we try writing to our adult selves from a child’s perspective, but that feels even harder. Somehow I feel like my child-self would be disappointed with the woman I’ve become. I think I had a very different vision of myself when I was young, and definitely thought I’d have a family and be a loving parent by now. Instead I’ve birthed books—The Door at the Crossroads will bring the total to 23 (for young readers, at least). I spent a fair amount of time alone as a child but I’m not sure I ever imagined living so far away from my family as an adult. My sister once said, “You were such a happy kid—what happened?” I don’t think I’m a miserable spinster (yet) but my parents’ divorce definitely changed me, and then my prolonged “awkward phase,” followed by a bout of depression my senior year in high school. What do you say to someone who’s still evolving? “Be patient with yourself and be kind.” My friend had a dream where her child-self said, “You have time.” Which is sage advice! Everything isn’t as urgent as we’d like to believe. I’m a lot like my child-self still…I love to collect shiny, sparkly things, and I love being around trees and exploring wild spaces. Simple things amuse me and I’m glad that hasn’t changed. I guess I’ll try to spin that into some sort of narrative before this day ends.