I don’t talk about my teenage years much.
Not because nothing happened, but because a lot did.
I successfully earned myself a pretty rough reputation as a teen, and it followed me straight through high school and into my early twenties. And while I’ve healed, grown, forgiven myself, and built a life I’m proud of, I would be lying if I said those years didn’t make things harder than they ever needed to be.
Now I’m a mom.
And I look at my daughter, standing on the edge of the tween and teen years, and I feel this deep urgency to tell her the things I wish someone had told me clearly, honestly, and without sugarcoating.
So this is my letter to her.
And maybe, if you’re raising a tween or teen, it’s a letter to your child too.




















