It’s two years ago that I began this journey. Two years ago that I turned away from Blogger in favor of something more serious, something that would rouse me out of bed in the morning, something that would pin my favorite moments of my little sister to a page much larger than mine.

Back then, I thought I would lose her. And then, I thought I already had. But now, she lives here. Even as her Honda Civic heads southwest tomorrow, not stopping until she reaches the small Virginia town I used to call home.

This is a letter to the girl in the mirror, but it’s also a letter to her.

The her I hope to never lose. The her I hope sits in my inbox every once in a while, who buzzes me awake at 2 am. The her I hope to see before November almost hands autumn over to December.

This is for her. Written for me. A year ago.

“I’m thrilled but terrified. Excited but nervous. I look in the mirror and try to place the girl staring back: short hair, small curves, a shy smile.

I try to figure out where she came from, if she was always buried deep inside. I hope she still laughs at her own jokes and lights up when she gets a compliment. I hope she still reaches far but doesn’t expect too much. I hope her dreams grow into waking moments and that when she reaches them, she doesn’t look back and wonder why she ever wanted them.

I hope she grows up but not old and I hope she falls in love for real this time. With a boy who wants to love her back and doesn’t want to change a hair on her body.

I hope she doesn’t twiddle her thumbs through this next year and I hope she wakes up ready to conquer the world and she stops doubting herself because she has unconventional ideas.

I hope she isn’t trying to be someone she isn’t because she’s perfect just the way she is.”

If you could write a letter to the girl in the mirror, what would it say?

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