I met my younger self for coffee today.

I was 15 minutes early, she was 15 minutes late.

She showed up hungover, bags under her eyes, but still so full of life. Lived her life one party to the next, as expected for a young woman in her early twenties. She was wearing all Lululemon, as was I. She had a puzzled look on her face, for a fleeting moment, when she noticed the filler in my face. Not something she could ever picture herself doing.

She ordered a vanilla iced latte, I ordered a black coffee. We sat there, noticing each other’s anxiety.

I know she was aware of some of the trauma she carried, but optimism and blissful ignorance kept her going. I wish I could tell her the road ahead was calm and smooth. I wish I could tell her that she would not get hurt again. I had to tell her the opposite—I had to give her the honesty and guidance that I needed as someone navigating adulthood.

With tears in my eyes I grabbed her hand and said, “I know that right now you are doing the best that you can with the tools that you have. You have a life filled with energy and vibrancy even though there is a part of you deep down that needs to be loved.” She wiped my tears with the napkin in her free hand.

“I understand that alcohol and sex are self-soothing escapes for you right now but you must brace yourself for the impact they will have in the future. You will think you are safe and having fun, and a man will take something from you without you being able to defend yourself—and use you like you’re nothing. Your world is going to turn upside down.”

She pulls back her hand, looking at me in terror. Wanting to run once again.

I grabbed the sides of her face in my hands, noticing her tear-filled eyes matching mine. “But I need you to remember something. You are so smart. You will still accomplish so much, and touch many lives. Most of all I need you to always remember you are strong. The blood of our ancestors runs through you, and it will show through every courageous step you take. There will be days you want to give up, and days your body will hurt from the memories, but you will find your way.”

She hugs me sobbing, “Will I ever find peace?”

“You know what mija, I wish I had an answer for you. I am still carrying tremendous weight, as you are too. However, this time I am carrying some wisdom as well. I need you to understand that a part of you will die that night, and the pain will always be a part of you. But, with death comes rebirth—you will find glimmers of equanimity and light heartedness that will start to define who you are as a woman.” After noticing I needed to leave for work soon I continued, “There are a few things I want you to remember above all else. First, your voice matters. Always advocate for yourself—even if you must voice your needs from the rooftops. Secondly, you are extremely resilient. Though you will spend many nights crying yourself to sleep, you will still show up and succeed. Lastly, be kind to yourself. Mistakes and pain are inevitable, and the feelings that come with them are what make you human.”

“That was a lot for me to hear and honestly, I’m kind of scared for the future, but I trust that what you say is what I need to hear.” My younger self said with a look of slight relief.

I stand up and give her a warm hug, letting her know she is so loved.

As I am walking out the door my younger self says, “you know, you make the future seem terrifying but you are everything I want to be and I am proud of who I will become.”

My heart fills with joy. How could I become so consumed by my own sadness at times that I forget I am now someone my younger self would be proud of?

“Oh, yea that reminds me.” I said with a smile. “You’re going to face a lot of idiots when you get closer to my age. Don’t take shit from anybody.”

I walk out the door. Hopefully we will meet again.