Give ‘em hell, bitch

What is this feeling I’m feeling? Foreign, with some hints of familiarity. I’ve had this feeling consistently for several months now. I wonder what it is…

You know what? I think—I think it might be—happiness.

During my therapy session this week, I told my therapist I believed if I could go back to my 24-year-old self, a young woman trapped in her parents’ home with so little hope for the future, and tell her what her life will look like in 13 years, she’d be so excited. I’d warn her she’ll have to go through a lot of shit to get here, but in the end, she’ll create the life she wants and she’ll be happy.

I imagine her floating phantom-like from the past, touching down in my apartment for a few moments. I can’t share details, as I don’t want to alter the timelines or impact her choices—she needs to have her own journey.

Is this where you live? She says.

Yes, yes, I love it.

It’s so nice. I really like it. You live alone?

I do. I love living alone.

So you never got married?

I’m not married. It’s hard for a bit. Then, it seems totally natural. It fits.

What do you do? What’s our job?

Sister, so many things. We create. We teach. We help. We own businesses and run nonprofits. You’re going to be a boss-ass bitch one day. But a lot of people are going to try to shut you down, kill your light, tell you no.

How do I make it?

Well, for one thing, you’re a scrappy fighter. What you’re going through right now, how you’re surviving right now, how you’re fighting right now, it serves you well down the road. People will deal you a lot of shit. But, girl, you’re gonna give them hell right back. Many of them will regret the day they tried to mess with you.

That sounds amazing.

It’s a nightmare. But you will survive. More than survive. You’ll kick ass.

I think my time is almost up, but can I ask one thing?

If I can answer, I will.

Do we, do we ever—write?

You mean are we published?

Yeah…

Yes. Yes. That dream comes true. And the coolest part… it’s not over. Look at me. I’m still pretty young and have quite a lot of life left to live.

Yeah, you’re still pretty hot.

We’re hot. And we get to wear whatever clothes we want. Nobody tells us what to wear, where to go, or what to do.

Are we happy?

What do you think?