Dear Me, at 20-something…

💌 Dear Me, at 20-something…

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

You don’t know this yet, but you’re going to leave.
Not just the town. Not just the guy.
You’re going to leave the whole world you thought you had to survive in — and build something else entirely.

Right now, you're scared.
You think love means suffering. You think staying quiet keeps you safe. You think you’re weak for wanting more.
But let me tell you something — you’re none of those things.

You’re just early.

The people around you — the ones drinking themselves numb, clinging to religion, smoke, violence, rage — they’re stuck.
You’re not. That feeling in your chest? That ache that whispers "There has to be more"?
That’s your compass.

You're going to learn to walk away.

It won’t be clean.
You’ll cry, you’ll question yourself, you’ll pack in silence while pretending everything’s okay.
You’ll rehearse your break-up speech, trying to be “gentle,” even with people who were never gentle with you.
But one day, when he throws your bag around like a threat, when he’s too drunk to see your fear —
you’ll feel the switch flip.
You’ll know: If I stay, I die.

And so… you go.

What’s ahead?

Freedom.
Not the kind they sell in commercials — but the real kind.
The kind where you wake up and no one’s yelling.
Where you paint murals under sun.
Where you raise your child with fierce, imperfect love.
Where you cry when you need to — and laugh when you want to.

It won’t be easy.
You’ll couch surf.
You’ll worry about money.
You’ll get rejected, misunderstood, underestimated.
But through it all, you’ll create.

You’ll write books.
You’ll tell the truth.
You’ll survive a world that tried to chew you up — and then you’ll speak for others who haven’t yet found their voice.

You won’t forget.

The berry fields.
The egg packing job.
The bike ride past prison fences.
The kids who called you names.
The scary boyfriend and his even scarier friend with the knife.
You’ll carry all of it — not as shame, but as firewood.

You’ll burn it into stories.
Into strength.
Into art.

And your child?

They’ll have their own battles.
They’ll walk away young, trying to outrun your shadow.
But one day, they’ll realize:
You didn’t just survive.
You fought for them, even when they couldn’t see it.

And maybe, just maybe, they’ll come back with their own stories — and you’ll listen with love.

So here’s what I want you to know:

You are not crazy.
You are not broken.
You are not wrong for wanting more.

You are light, hiding in a storm.
You are truth, surrounded by noise.
You are already strong — you just haven’t been free long enough to feel it.

Hold on.
One day, you’ll sign your name not with fear —
but with pride:
Tina Winterlik. Zipolita. Artist. Survivor. Writer of her own life.

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And if anyone reading this feels like I once did — scared, small, stuck — just know: you’re not alone.
Your life isn’t over. It’s just beginning. 💛