Dear Little One,

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siysiy

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Dear Little One,

Yes, you. You reading this right now. Even if you’re older, even if you’ve just turned eighteen, this letter is still for you.

It doesn’t matter if you like diapers or not. It doesn’t matter if you like bottles or binkies or not. You can be the most wonderful little mister I’ve ever met. You are the best princess. You are a fantastic kiddo. You are valid, you are loved.

Little one. Your stretch marks, your freckles and moles, your crooked teeth or bushy brows. You don’t have to want to be tucked in at night, or want to snuggle stuffies, but if you do that’s okay too. I don’t care how much you weigh. It’s okay if you are differently abled. It is okay if you are not neurotypical. You are beautiful. You are love and loved.

When the sun sets, if you can look out at the stars and know they shine for you, because you shine so brightly they want to be like you. Your happiness is important. Your feelings are important. You are good. Everything will be okay.

If you are anything like me, little one, you may roll your eyes at this and think “How do they know I’m all these things? They barely know me!” I know you have value in this world. I know you are special and important and can be a wonderful and great person.

I want to tell you something, little one. You are not broken. You are not wrong. You are deserving of good things.

If you’re anything like me, you don’t say these things to yourself often enough. If you’re anything like me, you might not say them to yourself at all. Someone should. Someone should say these things to you.

So I will. You are beautiful. Even if your body doesn’t match your soul, your soul is beautiful. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to feel good things. About yourself. About the world.

You are valid.

In the end, you are going to be okay. Know that someone, somewhere, loves you. Even if that person is me.

You are valid, and you are loved.
 
Well said i feel the same way.
 
Lovely read; thank you. :)
 
Scuse me... got some dust in my eye.
 
I don't know. For some reason my inner child keeps wanting to say... ack, ack, ack (sticks finger down throat) This is too mushy.
 
Kinda sounds like a hypnosis script from an audio recording....not that I would know or anything. *blushes and nervously shifts weight from one foot to the other*
 
Wow. Feels like he was talking directly to me :)
 
Wow, great job!
 
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