August 1: Dear Me, Right Now

18 Love Letters

I wanted to write a long, extensive love letter to myself for my birthday. And I wanted to make August very special for me. In recent years I've really learned to sit with myself, to understand me and enjoy my own company. I genuinely crave this closeness to myself, and when life becomes crowded and fast-paced, I miss me. So I asked ChatGPT to create 18 prompts, one to write to myself each day until my birthday (August 18), which would eventually add up to the extensive love letter. I want to publish it here for a few reasons. One, so that I commit to continuing. And more importantly, so that I have it cemented somewhere, a place I can revisit and read whenever I need to.

Here's day 1:

August 1: Dear Me, Right Now

Write about who you are in this exact moment. No edits, no pretending. What do you want this version of you to know?

I'm going to first write down, in literal terms, who I am in this moment. A factual list of the titles assigned to me, in the order they came to mind (I think the order has to do with what I find most profound in my life).

First, I am a PhD student in my second year of what is hopefully a three-year PhD, in the wellbeing of SME entrepreneurs in Kuwait. Being here has been, and still is, a dream to me, and the subject area couldn't be more interesting. I always dreamed of pursuing a PhD in anything. Even if I hated the subject, I was willing to do the work, because a PhD meant an outbound, no-return ticket to teaching, which is my calling. I applied in all sorts of fields hoping for an acceptance: economics, engineering, all subjects I loathed. To be studying right now, doing the PhD in wellbeing!!! And entrepreneurs. How blessed am I?

Second, I am a wife to an adoring husband. I've always wanted someone I could pour my love into who reciprocated it. I always wanted someone who felt like home, someone who cared for me in the ways I need, who looked after me, who had no other worry but me. God blessed me with a husband who feels like a healed childhood, a warm cup of hot chocolate on the coldest day, crisp cold sheets in summer, and all my girlhood dreams wrapped up in a giant bouquet.

Third, I am a daughter and a sister, bound to my family by blood and by a series of interwoven experiences only we understand. My love for my family has no bounds, and I feel it so intensely it has tangible, physical effects on my body and soul. As an adult I have learned to set boundaries, internal ones only visible to me: in what I expect of myself toward them, in the harsh ways I punish myself for outcomes in their lives I have no control over, in how I take reactions directed at me that have nothing to do with me, and in what I expect in return. And those boundaries, the ones I was always so scared to set, only helped me love more strongly and build happier, more meaningful relationships.

I'm also a creative, with multiple art forms, or shall I say outlets? I'm a writer, always have been, since the moment I learned to write, and my style really took form as early as eleven, when I won an essay-writing competition in fifth grade. I wrote about my teacher, Ms. Nicole, because I loved her so much, and because I wanted to win. I also love expressing myself through the way I engineer my aesthetic, from my clothes to my home to my socials. I paint and draw on occasion, and I cherish everything I make. They are chunks and pieces of me, on canvases, on paper, on my blog. I went to fashion school for a summer stint, and I use it as a full-blown accolade to identify as a fashion expert.

I'm someone who loves learning, always a student. I love academia. I love books (fiction is my favorite genre). I love being on airplanes, disconnected from the world, and I love traveling, even though I hate the hard work that goes into it (packing, unpacking, airports, lines, bad service, etc.).

I wouldn't describe myself as carefree and flexible. I'm high maintenance. I don't like being physically uncomfortable; I like spaciousness, pristine cleanliness, fine dining, AC, lol. But I would describe myself as malleable. I adapt to circumstances. I'm resilient; I rarely break down in the face of misfortune or heartbreak. I always get back up. I am emotionally disciplined. I rarely have meltdowns or outbursts, even when they're warranted. I have always learned, probably from the circumstances of my childhood, to push my emotions aside, think logically, and weigh all the options. Don't get me wrong, I am very sensitive and I feel things so intensely, but I know very well how to hide my tears and my weakness, although now, as an adult, I try to allow myself to express my pain. To cry, even in public. It's a form of self-love not to exert immense energy holding back your real, raw emotions (to me, at least: why should I put myself in even more pain just so I don't discomfort those around me with my tears?). And it's a privilege for those who truly love me to be there for me in those times.

I'm a teacher. I was so engulfed in it during the two years I did it that it became my whole identity, and that's dangerous, tying all your worth to a job (I learned that the hard way). So I have set boundaries since then, and built routines that make sure I don't neglect the other sides of me, because there's much more to me than that. Though teaching is a huge part of who I am. I love nurturing students through learning. It is so, so, so rewarding to see someone who has never believed in themselves finally do it. To watch them do well and flourish. I have always believed love could solve anything, and I put soooo much effort into making sure my students feel seen and have the tools to succeed in the world. (That's my version of loving them.) I have found this job so, so, so rewarding; it fills my cup to the brim and then some. I always feel proud of myself when I walk out of a classroom, especially on the days I give it my all, meticulously planning the lecture and folding in ideas and activities that turn my lecture rooms into what feel like conference halls, buzzing with movement and conversation, ideas expressed back and forth, active learning. I lose myself in my lectures, escape the world, and get to be fully immersed and present, and there's no sweeter solace. Of course, not all lectures are equal, nor all students, nor all semesters. There are plenty of hard days and unbearable moments, but the good outweighs the bad by far.

I'm an optimist. I believe good things are happening and will keep happening. I see the good in people, the cup half full, the greener side of things. I think I'm the luckiest, and that things always work out for me (even when they don't). Every day I wake up thinking something amazing is going to happen. I think my life is magical and my wishes are all coming true. The source of my optimism is my faith, my unbreakable belief that God is real and good, and that he loves me.

Finally, I'm just a girl. I love all the girly things (flowers, makeup, jewelry, bags, all of it). I love being courted and complimented. I like binge-watching girly shows like Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill while doing my skincare and eating comfort food at the same time. (My current comfort food is tteokbokki; I've gotten into the nasty habit of working it into my bedtime routine.)

P.S. I'm writing this at airport baggage collection, sitting on a waiting chair while my husband gets the bag. We'd just returned from a weekend trip to Lebanon to see my in-laws. It was dreamy.