Dear 12-year-old Sandra,

I get it. Life sucks. You used to have breathing problems as a kid, then you outgrew them — yay! — then out of nowhere you have severe go-to-the-ER-right-now-and-call-the-priest asthma. Oh, and on top of that, you also randomly just started getting killer migraines, but you weren’t allowed to complain because your sister or someone else out there had it worse. It wasn’t that you weren’t thinking about others, you just wanted to vent about it. So, you ranted, and ranted and ranted to your friend Arielle, and she was always there for you: through the pain in your head, through the trips to the nurse when you had an asthma attack. She was and still is always just one text away.

But the worst part of it all wasn’t the pain; it was that doctors didn’t, and still don’t, know how to fix it. Like — what! I know! These doctors went through medical school, passed, became doctors, specialized, and still don’t know how to solve your asthma and migraines. They don’t know how to stop it, so they blame it on your hormones or weight or exercising patterns or just what you eat, but it’s none of those things, and everyone knows it.

But even through all the shit that is thrown at you, you are somehow fighting your way through high school. You’re almost done! And you are doing it because you are AWESOME! You do your assignments, you make it to class, most days, and the days you miss are spent making up the work through the pain. Who does that?! Nobody. You are the only person you know who does that, and that’s pretty freakin’ cool. Like seriously, somehow you get all your shit done, have amazing friends that love you, and you are on your path to college.

Do what you want and do it proudly, because you are always ready for whatever happens, and you always will be. Trust me, it may not seem like it, but somehow you will get to where you need to go.




Sandra Faramarzi

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