That’s an extreme cliche. Sorry, guys. But here’s the background–
Recently, I got a chance to revisit an old adventure in the spiritual retreat for my youth choir, Encounter.  I heard the stories of dozens of hurting high schoolers.  This is not much different from how it was when I was there, but looking at it from the outside broke my heart even more.  So, I needed to write to them.

As I heard all of your stories, Encounter, I remembered so much of my own.  I think it’s important to share struggles, stories, and pain–but looking at all of your beautiful faces from a few years removed, a few years clean, and a million lessons learned, I feel like it is so necessary for you all to hear from someone (one of the many!) who walked in your shoes.
I was the one with the alcoholic father and the broken family relationships.
I was the one who did not know healthy friendships or relationships.
I was the one struggling with self-harm and undiagnosed depression and anxiety.
I was the one feigning happiness and hiding my hurt.
I was the one who did not find happiness until my Encounter family surrounded me and showed me the love of Christ.

And I have to tell you, just to make sure you know–it gets better.

I attended retreat with the worship band that included my boyfriend of almost three years, my best friend, and my father (who is sober and finally has an amazing relationship with his daughter).
I attended retreat as a woman three years and three months clean from self-harm–a continuing recovery in which I never thought I would be.

But, dear family, it took me way too long to get here.  I made some extremely important mistakes along the way–I write you this in the hope and prayer that you can learn from my mistakes.
I let my fear separate me from my friends, from so many people who love and care about me.  Believe me when I say that the reason I could call my best friend by that title is purely and completely the grace of God. It took me years and years to find (and re-find) a friend that was exactly what I needed.
I refused to understand that the love of Jesus surpasses the criticism of people, the brokenness of humanity, and the questions I had about my identity.  I fell into the lie that Jesus was constantly judging me for my brokenness, imperfections, and differences, and it made me overthink every move I made for way too long.  
I did not seek help when I should’ve.  This is so crucial, because I knew the whole time that I couldn’t do it on my own.  I knew I needed more than I could expect from myself or the people in my life.
It took me way too long to be honest with my dad, and way too long to allow him to become my friend.  Guys, your parents are broken and struggling just like you are. Sometimes this creates awful circumstances and a lot of times it causes pain. But getting to know my dad in his own recovery has started to chip away at years of mistrust, bitterness, and fear that weighed me down constantly. And now, as an adult, I can honestly say my dad is one of my favorite people and I am so blessed to know him.

Your struggles are far from over, dear family–you are constantly growing, being challenged, and most importantly being created.  This will create so many mountains and valleys in your life; in that respect, it does not necessarily get easier.  But it does get better. You learn to trust more, love more, and allow yourself to heal.  And you learn to trust the process, to know in everything that God is providing and in control.

Hold tight, because your lives are just beginning; your journeys with God are just beginning.  I cannot wait to see what God is doing in all of your lives.
You are precious, honored, and loved in the eyes of God.  Fearfully and wonderfully made.  And wonderful, incredible, beautiful beyond compare.