Dear Tali,
You have just turned eighteen, and college is looming. People will tell you college will be infinitely better than high school, but don’t believe them. This is not to say that you won’t love your college years, I would just encourage you to soak up these last months at home. And don’t feel bad for crying when you leave home, because those last moments with your family that morning will be among the sweetest memories you will ever make.
And as long as we’re talking about emotion, I want you to know that you shouldn’t avoid it. It’s okay to cry. I know you feel the need to protect yourself by being tough, by avoiding anything that exposes your true feelings, but let me tell you from experience, you’ll wind up with an enormous amount of regret if you do this. So share your testimony often, even if you have to blubber through it. Go say goodbye to Shaun, even if you are a few states away and in the middle of finals. Yes, you would cry like a baby to see him so sick, but if it were you, you know you’d want him there. And if you don’t go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. That I can promise you. Dance with your brother at his wedding, even if there is no friend beside you to talk you into it. Sure, you might cry, because you love him more than anyone, because he is your miracle, and because it’s hard to let go, but it will be worth it. I can promise you that, too.
You are an incredibly caring person, and with that comes a tendency to want to help others who are struggling. This impulse is not a bad one, but it can get you into trouble if you aren’t careful. Remember that you can always walk away. Remember that not everyone can be helped. And remember that the person whose sanity is the most important is your own. The minute you feel yourself becoming less than the person you know you are, have a cry, cut them loose, and move on with your life. You’ll need this advice in both relationships and friendships, so please take it to heart.
And finally, a word or two about love. People are all sure you’ll marry fast, and while you are almost showy in your disagreement, you actually hope they are right. There will come a moment this summer when you realize that you could be married by this time next year. It will fill you with a sense of privilege and maturity. But let me just give you some advice right now and tell you that you will not get married as soon as you are hoping. You’ll have to trust in the Lord’s timetable, and this will not always be easy, but it will be essential. You will accomplish much in your single years, and too much discouragement will keep you from fully reaching your potential.
There are so many good things in your life, both then and now. Enjoy them, express gratitude for them, and if nothing else, write them down.
I’m pulling for you,
Tali, age 27
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
K in San Diego
Dear Me at 16,
You know all too well the mantra of “progress, not perfection,” though I can’t think of a time when you settled for anything but perfection. Well, prepare yourself now, because the next 10 years will be far less than perfect.
But they will also form you. Right now your mind is filled with abstract hopes and dreams of a life you have not yet experienced. Ironically, ten years later you’ll long for the optimism, hope and yearning that comes from that same inexperience. Appreciate it now – it will never come back.
You have no idea how strong you are. You are dependent, obedient, meek. But you will have experiences that you are positive will break you. They won’t. Instead, they will cement in you a power of survival that you will take with you throughout your life. But remember that you’re not all strength and steel. You’re also flesh and blood and soul, and most importantly – a woman. You will learn to be vulnerable again, and realize in time that softness is not weakness.
You are a people-pleaser. Don’t let go of this charitable attitude but take care to look out for yourself as well as others, and accept that some people – especially men – will ask too much of you. Free yourself of obligation.
You are smart – so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. What was once your greatest pride will slowly shift as you become more concerned with your beauty, image and the pleasure of being ‘liked.’ I wish, wish wish you wouldn’t shadow your intellect with your image. Don’t completely replace a library with a gym, or a museum with a mall. Your mind is your greatest gift. I wish we had appreciated it more.
I wish I could tell you more, but I’m only ten years ahead. I’m optimistic for the future, and I feel content with the person we have become. She is strong but fragile, charitable yet assured, and always working to improve herself - body, mind and spirit. We have created an impressive woman.
Thank you for your dreams. We’re getting there.
K
You know all too well the mantra of “progress, not perfection,” though I can’t think of a time when you settled for anything but perfection. Well, prepare yourself now, because the next 10 years will be far less than perfect.
But they will also form you. Right now your mind is filled with abstract hopes and dreams of a life you have not yet experienced. Ironically, ten years later you’ll long for the optimism, hope and yearning that comes from that same inexperience. Appreciate it now – it will never come back.
You have no idea how strong you are. You are dependent, obedient, meek. But you will have experiences that you are positive will break you. They won’t. Instead, they will cement in you a power of survival that you will take with you throughout your life. But remember that you’re not all strength and steel. You’re also flesh and blood and soul, and most importantly – a woman. You will learn to be vulnerable again, and realize in time that softness is not weakness.
You are a people-pleaser. Don’t let go of this charitable attitude but take care to look out for yourself as well as others, and accept that some people – especially men – will ask too much of you. Free yourself of obligation.
You are smart – so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. What was once your greatest pride will slowly shift as you become more concerned with your beauty, image and the pleasure of being ‘liked.’ I wish, wish wish you wouldn’t shadow your intellect with your image. Don’t completely replace a library with a gym, or a museum with a mall. Your mind is your greatest gift. I wish we had appreciated it more.
I wish I could tell you more, but I’m only ten years ahead. I’m optimistic for the future, and I feel content with the person we have become. She is strong but fragile, charitable yet assured, and always working to improve herself - body, mind and spirit. We have created an impressive woman.
Thank you for your dreams. We’re getting there.
K
Monday, June 8, 2009
Katie in New Orleans
Dear me as a high school senior,
You once wrote a letter to the eighteen-year-old you when you were only 11. You had outlined your future goals to accomplish by 18 – in school, in love, with long hair, and a famous actress (?!). You were supposed to open the letter on your 18th birthday, but you couldn’t wait. You opened it earlier and felt a little sad that you hadn’t met your goals. You were still in school, obviously, because you were a senior in high school (funny how old 18 seemed as an 11-year-old), but your hair was still short (always has been, and I suspect, it always will be), and you had not yet been in love. You had transferred your acting dreams to writing, but still in that vague kind of way.
You spent much of your senior year stressed about college and applications and grades and wondering if you were good enough. You spent most of the time writing really bad poetry on scraps of paper and staring out windows with affected melancholy because you thought it made you somehow more interesting. I wish I could tell you that being aloof wasn’t the answer, but you will learn several years later the joy of engaging with all different kinds of people. At 18, you thought small talk was “trite.” You will learn that all talk is a way to connect and understand people.
You once spent an evening watching Tommy Boy and refusing to laugh because the movie was “pedestrian.” You had some strict ideas about what kinds of things were worth your time, and they generally included only movies based on literature or with corsets. I’m relieved to tell you that was just a phase. (Although, you would probably be ashamed at how much reality tv you end up watching.) But I wish you hadn’t wasted so much time taking yourself too seriously.
You are 18, and you desperately want to leave Utah and go to a small liberal arts college. So desperately that you turn down scholarships and take out loans to do so, only to discover it wasn’t what you really wanted after all. That’s ok. You are 18, and you will make mistakes. Let yourself explore new things and don’t define yourself before actually getting to know yourself. And guess what, you will continue to learn new things about yourself all the time.
Love,
Your older (but not wiser) self.
You once wrote a letter to the eighteen-year-old you when you were only 11. You had outlined your future goals to accomplish by 18 – in school, in love, with long hair, and a famous actress (?!). You were supposed to open the letter on your 18th birthday, but you couldn’t wait. You opened it earlier and felt a little sad that you hadn’t met your goals. You were still in school, obviously, because you were a senior in high school (funny how old 18 seemed as an 11-year-old), but your hair was still short (always has been, and I suspect, it always will be), and you had not yet been in love. You had transferred your acting dreams to writing, but still in that vague kind of way.
You spent much of your senior year stressed about college and applications and grades and wondering if you were good enough. You spent most of the time writing really bad poetry on scraps of paper and staring out windows with affected melancholy because you thought it made you somehow more interesting. I wish I could tell you that being aloof wasn’t the answer, but you will learn several years later the joy of engaging with all different kinds of people. At 18, you thought small talk was “trite.” You will learn that all talk is a way to connect and understand people.
You once spent an evening watching Tommy Boy and refusing to laugh because the movie was “pedestrian.” You had some strict ideas about what kinds of things were worth your time, and they generally included only movies based on literature or with corsets. I’m relieved to tell you that was just a phase. (Although, you would probably be ashamed at how much reality tv you end up watching.) But I wish you hadn’t wasted so much time taking yourself too seriously.
You are 18, and you desperately want to leave Utah and go to a small liberal arts college. So desperately that you turn down scholarships and take out loans to do so, only to discover it wasn’t what you really wanted after all. That’s ok. You are 18, and you will make mistakes. Let yourself explore new things and don’t define yourself before actually getting to know yourself. And guess what, you will continue to learn new things about yourself all the time.
Love,
Your older (but not wiser) self.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Jess in Salt Lake
Dear Me at 23,
I know, I know, I’m only 10 years older than you. I can’t really know that much more than you do, right? Because you think you pretty much have things figured out, I know.
I just want to tell you that you actually made some good choices these last couple of years. You have learned that there are so many good people around you. Some of these friends in your little apartment complex right now are treasures you actually get to hang on to. Lucky you! You are learning that there is not only one “right way” to do life. There are so many different choices and time frames and combinations. What you are starting to figure out is that you can be a good person, and a good member of the church without structuring your life just like someone else. Many different roads led your friends to this spot you are at, and each road was different.
You have struggled with deciding if you are ready to start a family. You are not. Nobody is ready. But I will say that waiting a few years was a really good idea for you. This was a difficult decision for you to make. It seemed like for a while there you felt like you “should” have a baby. You prayed and pondered and then decided to wait. So good job for doing what YOU thought was best, not what someone else thought was best. I wish I did that more these days. There are some serious road blocks, speed bumps and potholes on your road and the little foundation you have been working on is just barely going to get you through. I don’t want to scare you, but in the next 6 years, you will question your faith, strength, marriage, and mental status. You will cling to the bits you can, and you will get through these years mostly intact, but chubbier. Ease up on the ice cream. You needed a few years of married life before taking on children.
Also in the next 6 years, you will experience such joy you can’t even believe it. Babies fast and furious. Six years from now, my younger, not-even-pregnant-yet-self, you will be done having kids. And you will know for sure about that one too. You will have had many precious moments, many opportunities to build up your faith and strength. That goofy guy you married is a dang good father and he will save your bacon many times, and will encourage you and love you. Forgive him when he struggles, and return the support he gives you. Also, your kids are beautiful and they will need a lot of sunscreen.
So, all this to say, the decisions you make this year are good ones. You did well, you chose right for YOU. Try to have a little more confidence in yourself, you are stronger than you think you are. Ten years later, I am still working on this, but trial and error have showed me that trusting myself usually works out OK.
And I know you can’t even wrap your head around this one, but you are moving to Utah soon. And you will still be there at my age. Even though it pains me to admit it, turns out that the decision to come here was a pretty good one too.
Love,
Jess -33
I know, I know, I’m only 10 years older than you. I can’t really know that much more than you do, right? Because you think you pretty much have things figured out, I know.
I just want to tell you that you actually made some good choices these last couple of years. You have learned that there are so many good people around you. Some of these friends in your little apartment complex right now are treasures you actually get to hang on to. Lucky you! You are learning that there is not only one “right way” to do life. There are so many different choices and time frames and combinations. What you are starting to figure out is that you can be a good person, and a good member of the church without structuring your life just like someone else. Many different roads led your friends to this spot you are at, and each road was different.
You have struggled with deciding if you are ready to start a family. You are not. Nobody is ready. But I will say that waiting a few years was a really good idea for you. This was a difficult decision for you to make. It seemed like for a while there you felt like you “should” have a baby. You prayed and pondered and then decided to wait. So good job for doing what YOU thought was best, not what someone else thought was best. I wish I did that more these days. There are some serious road blocks, speed bumps and potholes on your road and the little foundation you have been working on is just barely going to get you through. I don’t want to scare you, but in the next 6 years, you will question your faith, strength, marriage, and mental status. You will cling to the bits you can, and you will get through these years mostly intact, but chubbier. Ease up on the ice cream. You needed a few years of married life before taking on children.
Also in the next 6 years, you will experience such joy you can’t even believe it. Babies fast and furious. Six years from now, my younger, not-even-pregnant-yet-self, you will be done having kids. And you will know for sure about that one too. You will have had many precious moments, many opportunities to build up your faith and strength. That goofy guy you married is a dang good father and he will save your bacon many times, and will encourage you and love you. Forgive him when he struggles, and return the support he gives you. Also, your kids are beautiful and they will need a lot of sunscreen.
So, all this to say, the decisions you make this year are good ones. You did well, you chose right for YOU. Try to have a little more confidence in yourself, you are stronger than you think you are. Ten years later, I am still working on this, but trial and error have showed me that trusting myself usually works out OK.
And I know you can’t even wrap your head around this one, but you are moving to Utah soon. And you will still be there at my age. Even though it pains me to admit it, turns out that the decision to come here was a pretty good one too.
Love,
Jess -33
Thursday, June 4, 2009
C in Southern California
Dear Me at 14,
You’re in high school – woo hoo! But here’s the rub, high school sucks. And why does it suck? Because you make it suck. All those years of watching Grease and reading Sweet Valley High have built up expectations in you that can never be fulfilled. High school is just a tiny blip in your life, and nothing that happens there is really that important. You don’t have to be popular, a cheerleader, homecoming queen, go to every dance, date a football player, or even date at all. You just have to be yourself. Be happy. Be that wonderful, easy-going, understanding person that everyone relates to and can talk to. You aren’t defined by your friends; you’re defined by who you are. So go ahead and be friends with the druggies, the nerds, the band geeks, even a few cheerleaders. And don’t feel like you have to hide those friendships. Just relax, stop trying so hard to be someone you’re not. Because who you are is pretty awesome! Yeah, you’re shy and awkward in group situations. But that’s only because you’re so concerned about what everyone else thinks of you. And guess what – they’re not thinking of you! They’re thinking of themselves, only themselves, and how awkward and shy they feel. So just go with it, have fun. You’re going to have so many wonderful experiences that you’ll remember forever, don’t stress about the small stuff. Oh and by the way, you’re not fat, not chubby, really not even overweight. I don’t know where you got it in your head that you were some big fatso, probably from your parent’s misguided attempts to encourage healthy eating by telling you “you don’t want to end up fat like Jenny!” (who, I must stress, is not fat either). Yeah, you’re not a size two like some of your friends. But trust me, they would exchange their skinny arms & legs for your curves any day. The only beauty tip I would give you is that it’s time to grow out those bangs. And be patient with the braces, they’re well worth the pain.
I know the next four years are going to be tough, and you’re going to make some mistakes. You’ll make a lot of friends; you’ll lose a few friends. But it’s okay. You’re okay. And the best years of your life are still ahead of you. So just roll with it, and have fun.
Love,
Me at 32
You’re in high school – woo hoo! But here’s the rub, high school sucks. And why does it suck? Because you make it suck. All those years of watching Grease and reading Sweet Valley High have built up expectations in you that can never be fulfilled. High school is just a tiny blip in your life, and nothing that happens there is really that important. You don’t have to be popular, a cheerleader, homecoming queen, go to every dance, date a football player, or even date at all. You just have to be yourself. Be happy. Be that wonderful, easy-going, understanding person that everyone relates to and can talk to. You aren’t defined by your friends; you’re defined by who you are. So go ahead and be friends with the druggies, the nerds, the band geeks, even a few cheerleaders. And don’t feel like you have to hide those friendships. Just relax, stop trying so hard to be someone you’re not. Because who you are is pretty awesome! Yeah, you’re shy and awkward in group situations. But that’s only because you’re so concerned about what everyone else thinks of you. And guess what – they’re not thinking of you! They’re thinking of themselves, only themselves, and how awkward and shy they feel. So just go with it, have fun. You’re going to have so many wonderful experiences that you’ll remember forever, don’t stress about the small stuff. Oh and by the way, you’re not fat, not chubby, really not even overweight. I don’t know where you got it in your head that you were some big fatso, probably from your parent’s misguided attempts to encourage healthy eating by telling you “you don’t want to end up fat like Jenny!” (who, I must stress, is not fat either). Yeah, you’re not a size two like some of your friends. But trust me, they would exchange their skinny arms & legs for your curves any day. The only beauty tip I would give you is that it’s time to grow out those bangs. And be patient with the braces, they’re well worth the pain.
I know the next four years are going to be tough, and you’re going to make some mistakes. You’ll make a lot of friends; you’ll lose a few friends. But it’s okay. You’re okay. And the best years of your life are still ahead of you. So just roll with it, and have fun.
Love,
Me at 32
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Megan in Utah
Dearest me,
You’re standing in the bathroom, scared as hell, holding a positive pregnancy test in your hand. Yes you’re married. But no, you weren’t exactly planning on motherhood just yet. You’re terrified. And you’ve learned that it does matter if you forget to take The Pill for a day (maybe 2? 3? Oops.)
But calm down little girl. Wipe the tears off your face. And think about that little kid growing inside you. A little kid (a girl!) who will to love you more than anybody else. A girl who will run to find you first thing every morning. A girl who will cuddle with you for stories every night. A girl who will learn from you, depend on you, and frustrate you. But a girl that will awaken a piece of your heart that you didn’t know you had.
You’re scared. You’re in the middle of your last semester of college. Your husband has at least 2 years of school as well. You’re poor. You’re really poor. And what about the teaching career you’ve dreamed of since you were just a kid yourself? You feel like you’re losing a part of yourself--sacrificing your body, your brain, your ambition. How can you be a mother? Feed, clothe, clean, teach, carry a child? You can’t even take care of yourself (see what you did with The Pill?) how can you take care of a baby?
Megan, you can be a mother. And you will be a mother---a mother who will cuddle and nurse and rock her baby just like mothers have from the beginning. You will be imperfect. You will worry, oh you will worry, but you will raise that baby the best you know how. And “the best you know how” will be more than good enough.
So, go tell that good husband of yours the good news. Because it is good news. A baby is great news. And go blow your last 5 bucks on some ice cream. Being a mom rocks.
Love,
Me
P.S. Should I also warn you about the twins you’ll have after that little girl? You’ll do okay by them, too.
You’re standing in the bathroom, scared as hell, holding a positive pregnancy test in your hand. Yes you’re married. But no, you weren’t exactly planning on motherhood just yet. You’re terrified. And you’ve learned that it does matter if you forget to take The Pill for a day (maybe 2? 3? Oops.)
But calm down little girl. Wipe the tears off your face. And think about that little kid growing inside you. A little kid (a girl!) who will to love you more than anybody else. A girl who will run to find you first thing every morning. A girl who will cuddle with you for stories every night. A girl who will learn from you, depend on you, and frustrate you. But a girl that will awaken a piece of your heart that you didn’t know you had.
You’re scared. You’re in the middle of your last semester of college. Your husband has at least 2 years of school as well. You’re poor. You’re really poor. And what about the teaching career you’ve dreamed of since you were just a kid yourself? You feel like you’re losing a part of yourself--sacrificing your body, your brain, your ambition. How can you be a mother? Feed, clothe, clean, teach, carry a child? You can’t even take care of yourself (see what you did with The Pill?) how can you take care of a baby?
Megan, you can be a mother. And you will be a mother---a mother who will cuddle and nurse and rock her baby just like mothers have from the beginning. You will be imperfect. You will worry, oh you will worry, but you will raise that baby the best you know how. And “the best you know how” will be more than good enough.
So, go tell that good husband of yours the good news. Because it is good news. A baby is great news. And go blow your last 5 bucks on some ice cream. Being a mom rocks.
Love,
Me
P.S. Should I also warn you about the twins you’ll have after that little girl? You’ll do okay by them, too.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Carrie in Southern California
Dear young self – I think you are about thirty,
Maybe you should miss work today because things won’t go so well. You have been working at one of those big corporations for several years now. Corporations give you the opportunity to work with many types of people and grow from the experience. Some of those people you will enjoy and some will challenge you on many levels. Today is a test and you don’t pass.
For several years you and a co-worker have shared different parts of a job. You guys are really different making some days exciting for the difference and others frustrating. Over the years your co-worker has been pretty hard to take on many occasions. Being one to just go along you have practiced and perfected the art of turning the other cheek. This art has been practiced in many remote parts of the world, in front of other people and at social outings. But not today!
Today you wake up stressed with impending deadlines and that is not an excuse. You have a meeting in an open studio with other designers. While discussing an important design decision your co-worker pipes up about you not having a good taste level. You stop and look her up and down. The woman is actually wearing a short black skirt with red and white striped tights. The ensemble is capped off with a yes a cap, a fuzzy sweater and short boots. So here is the mistake, you say, “All this from the woman whose design inspiration is the Cat in the Hat.” Seriously, all the air sucked out of the room. People are laughing and dead quite at the same time. Well, Ms. Seuss storms away and you are left realizing that comment only felt good for a second.
If you get the chance, keep turning the other cheek. You will have to see the Cat in the Hat forever. You two would not have been close friends but cats don’t forget. It would be much easier to see Ms. Seuss and ask about her family or even just say hi. Also, it doesn’t feel good to be mean period!
love,
carrie
Maybe you should miss work today because things won’t go so well. You have been working at one of those big corporations for several years now. Corporations give you the opportunity to work with many types of people and grow from the experience. Some of those people you will enjoy and some will challenge you on many levels. Today is a test and you don’t pass.
For several years you and a co-worker have shared different parts of a job. You guys are really different making some days exciting for the difference and others frustrating. Over the years your co-worker has been pretty hard to take on many occasions. Being one to just go along you have practiced and perfected the art of turning the other cheek. This art has been practiced in many remote parts of the world, in front of other people and at social outings. But not today!
Today you wake up stressed with impending deadlines and that is not an excuse. You have a meeting in an open studio with other designers. While discussing an important design decision your co-worker pipes up about you not having a good taste level. You stop and look her up and down. The woman is actually wearing a short black skirt with red and white striped tights. The ensemble is capped off with a yes a cap, a fuzzy sweater and short boots. So here is the mistake, you say, “All this from the woman whose design inspiration is the Cat in the Hat.” Seriously, all the air sucked out of the room. People are laughing and dead quite at the same time. Well, Ms. Seuss storms away and you are left realizing that comment only felt good for a second.
If you get the chance, keep turning the other cheek. You will have to see the Cat in the Hat forever. You two would not have been close friends but cats don’t forget. It would be much easier to see Ms. Seuss and ask about her family or even just say hi. Also, it doesn’t feel good to be mean period!
love,
carrie
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