Who am I now, you ask. I cannot easily answer that question. It's not because I don't know, but because it's difficult to express in one letter, to condense who I am into several sentences, especially when it seems that who I am seems to change daily, sometimes minute to minute.
You'll find hints of who I am between the lines of these notes, if you squint hard.
I understand why you are asking; after 20 years we are getting reacquainted with one another. Although, the truth is, you'll not find me much different than we were as teens. It's often said that all our lives we feel our adolescent age and it's certainly true in my case. It does make me sad that we did not keep in touch through our 20s and 30s.
This knowing is made more difficult by the miles and years between us.
Although I am learning from our correspondence about the pain that you are in and the life challenges you've faced in the past decade, I can only offer you consolation as I would any friend.
If I were to ask you a bunch of questions, I don't know details of your daily life and for that I feel as if I've missed much of what makes you you. Because motherhood is much of who you tell me you are, maybe we could start there????
If you were to meet with me today you'd find that my teeth are shorter, my hair is still blond, but the chip on my shoulder has finally filled in.