Dear Younger Me,

You are not crazy. You are extremely intelligent and things are difficult and both those things can happen concurrently.

You know how you couldn’t memorize your math facts or pass that states and capitals test? Remember how you would feel physically ill when given a large project? Remember how math seemed like a completely foreign language? You were still incredibly smart.

You know how you would be come overwhelmed and scared of seemingly nothing? Remember how you would cry at the slightest sign of someone being angry at you? Remember how the words “See me” written on a paper in school made you want to hide and never be found? Remember how people couldn’t understand why you would cry about everything? You were emotionally intelligent and wanted to be loved and accepted.

Remember how shy you were? Remember how you never wanted teachers to speak to you? Remember how you really wanted to just blend in and hope no one called you out or noticed you at all? That was the RSD (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria) speaking.

Remember that time you were in the passenger seat of your mom’s car when you were 8 and you had the incredibly deep thought that “Maybe I’m in a simulation and none of this is real.” That was just your crazy intuition and self-realization at play, but you ignored it.

However, you also wrote children’s books at the age of 7, many which were very good. You wrote poetry. You created imaginative worlds. You created a wildly successful alter ego who had multiple successful careers. You were odd and different, but oh so thoughtful and creative. You dreamed big and truly believed you could take on anything if you could just get past the anxiety and self-doubt.

You had ADHD, but it was the 90s and as far as everyone was concerned only boys had that. Boys with ADHD were wild and had impulsive thoughts and actions. You were far too quiet and behaved. Girls don’t have ADHD

Wrong. You were a beautifully smart, disorganized, messy, anxious, funny, creative little girl with an empathetic heart and big feelings. You were misunderstood and couldn’t find where you fit in. You were perfect just the way you were, you just needed tools to help you.

It took you 36 years to figure out why you were the way you were, but now we know. Now we can begin the rest of our lives with a little more clarity, a little more compassion, and a lot more understanding for what makes us uniquely Jessica.

You are safe, intelligent and learning.

Love your 36-year-old-self,

Jessica.