Mrs. Tweten

Mrs. Tweten,

This is going to be one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write, and honestly, I don't even know where to begin. It is impossible to put into words how much you meant to me, and every single student that had the privilege of being a student in your class, but, the world needs to know just how amazing you are so I will try my best. Please forgive all my grammatical mistakes, regardless of how many times you've told me I cannot start a sentence in the middle of a thought, I still do though I hear your voice yelling at me to fix it.
Your name was well known throughout the walls of Harbor ridge middle school, and every year I would eagerly read my class list in hopes that it was finally going to be my time to get to be part of your class. I got that honor in 8th grade and you did so much more than live up to your legacy.
You have this overwhelming presence about you, that commanded the room while simultaneously giving such a powerful feeling of peace. In your class there was no popular table, no problems at home, no one was greater or less than their peers. In your eyes, every single student was capable of reaching their highest dream, and you would settle for nothing less than our full potential on any and everything we did.
In your classroom, we were so much more than young students to whom you were assigned to teach science. We were young humans, the next generation of adults, whose unique personality was there for you to encourage and grow rather than to simply shape into some cookie cutter idea of who we were meant to be. Your outlandish personality was both entirely inappropriate for the classroom while being exactly what each and every one of us needed as developing humans. The lessons you taught me, are played word for word inside my head and I utilize that advice on a daily basis. A prime example being every parent's favorite piece of your advice that "it is better to seek forgiveness later, than permission now." You saw who we were and trusted us to make the right choice without running those decisions by anyone, long before we truly understood how important that trust was.
You had a motherly aura to you, that made me feel so safe inside your classroom. I wanted to do well because it felt so genuine when you responded with pride, and though I knew you were going to yell at me when I failed, I never doubted the underlying love and desire you had for me to do my best. It was never about the assignment to you, but how we could show ourselves through it.

I could recite word for word every joke, story and piece of advice you ever gave us. There was no shortage of laughter spilling into the hallways as your larger than life personality went off on rants completely unrelated from the work at hand. Just seeing you in the hallways would lift everyone's spirits, we were all your babies, weather we were personal students or not. You were going to parent, teach and guide us. When I was in grade school I heard a story about your quick thinking saving a classroom full of students during an earthquake. I genuinely don't know if this story is real, or a fabricated extension of how safe you made your class feel during that incredibly scary day. The story says that when the earthquake started you were grabbing students out of the halls and pulling them into your classroom to get them to safety, however once inside you knew your class was no longer safe and instructed all of the students outside to the field moments before the ceiling collapsed around the desks they were hiding under even though the rules said they were to say inside. Again I don't know, I wasn't there, but I do know that if I had been at HRMS that day, your class is the one I would have wanted to be in, being in your presence is were I would have felt the safest regardless of how damaged your room was after the fact. You were the momma bear, and with you around, every student was sure to be protected.

My time in your 8th-grade class was just the beginning, your love for every one of your students didn't end at middle school. You followed our journeys into adulthood, literally praying for each of us as we made our own way in this world. There were times our choices were met with your frustration because you saw potential in us we had not yet seen within ourselves. But oh my goodness, when you praised you praised with your whole heart.
I remember coming to your class at 19, telling you I had just joined the Navy. I was so scared, but you were so proud. I was nervous I wouldn't succeed, but you were already planning for our future email exchanges and telling me how you were going to share each adventure I took with your future students. You saw the life I was going to live and knew before I knew, that it was exactly what I needed. The hugs you gave me the day I left for boot camp held emotions I can still feel while writing this letter, and sitting here grieving your loss all I can think is how I would give anything for one more all-consuming hug from you.

Mrs. Tweten,
Thank you,
Thank you for believing in me.
Thank you for seeing the awkward, shy, quirky little girl that I was, and loving me as if I was already the woman you knew I would become.
Thank you for responding to my accomplishments with as much enthusiasm as you would your own child.
Thank you for loving me as I was, while pushing me to do better.

Thank you for being so, so much more than just my 8th-grade teacher.

Its hard to believe that the next time I go home I won't be stopping by your classroom.
and I am devastated that I didn't make it to your funeral, I am sure the room was packed with hundreds of students just like me, who lost one of the most influential people in their life. The entire community has suffered an insurmountable loss from your passing.

Please know that the world is such a better place because you were in it.
You will never be forgotten. Your voice will live on in my head forever, and your lessons are already well known by my children.

Thank you will never be enough, but I know you already know what I mean, even more so, than I do.

a letter to my younger self

To my younger self,

I wish this letter could travel through time to find you and tell you the things you need to hear.
I want you to know we're ok, we climbed that mountain and though it was treacherous it brought some of the most beautiful views...

I want you to know how temporary this seemingly unending pain is, and promise you that someday you will look back at this time and see beauty and strength where you now feel broken and weakness.

I want to tell you that you are doing the best you can. I know your best is currently messy, sporadic and incredibly flawed. But your intent is what matters and I know how hard you are trying. Give yourself grace sweet girl, this thing we call life is hard, your emotions, actions, reactions, and opinions are all normal parts of the human that you are. Its ok to not have a handle on it all yet. Youll get there. Give yourself time.
For now, Say sorry when you should, admit when you are wrong. And let it go when there is nothing left that you can do.

If I could only tell you one thing it would be that its ok to just be you.
 Is ok to be the quiet one, the loud one, the crazy one, or all of the above. right now being you may just be figuring out what version of yourself you even like, and thats ok. be all of them. individually or all at once, just be you.
Its ok to not know how you feel about something, emotions and events are tricky, you don't have to decide how you feel right away, give yourself time to process it, you'll feel better about your responses when they are true to you and not an imitation of your surroundings.
Its ok to not know, Seriously, ask questions, admit when you are wrong, strive to learn more than you teach, you cannot get better if you refuse to learn what you do not know.
You DO NOT have to have your future planned right now Its ok that you don't know at 17 how you are going to support yourself when you are 30....you are a kid. Society has this false idea that the second we turn 18 we should be fully ready to support ourselves or working toward the degree that will get us to that point. Society is wrong my love, all you need to do is find what sets your soul on fire and follow it until it no longer brings you joy. There is no "right" way to live. Right now at 28,  if you looked at a timeline of our life since leaving high school, you would think you were reading 3 completely different stories, yet each was just a chapter, a blimp in the overall story of us. each version of our life shaped us into who we are today, yet none of them were dependent on a career we did or didn't choose at 17. At the end of the day, it has never been how you make your money that matters, its who you spent your time with, the family you created, and ensuring that you left each person you visited a little better than you found them.
so rather than stressing over What you are going to be, focus simply on Who you are going to be... be kind to everyone you meet, live your truth even when it goes against the grain, take every opportunity you are given regardless of how much it scares you, never stop believing in the good that could be, and for the love of all that is holy, please stop flipping off the camera, you are going to want to show those pictures to your kids someday!

As for the future? Its so so worth it. I am not going to lie to you, there is no path that is free of all conflict, and life is going to throw you some curveballs. You are going to get knocked down from time to time, but every time you rise you rise higher. Your ability to love and be loved will deepen as you allow those around you to bring beauty to your pain, and you will learn to be the beauty in others when they hurt. You will realize that being happy doesn't mean never having a bad day, it means choosing the life that brings you the most meaning and embracing the ups and downs that your unique path brings to you.

We may never feel like we have it figured out, but I am beginning to think that may be ok. So my promise to you, and my future self is to continue to embrace that unknown, to allow myself time, to always strive for improvement but allow myself grace when I fall short, and to never stop believing in the positive hiding in the pain.

It gets better sweet girl, so, so much better. and you are going to want to be around to see it. So hold on, believe in the good, and trust your journey. Let's see where we end up.

Sincerely, you.