Letters from the Young #5
"I am getting a couple of people to write letters to their older
selves. I recently read Gabrielle Union's letter to her younger self in
Essence and thought that there might be value in writing something to
our older selves. While we learn a lot with age, some things get lost as
well - ie. spontaneity, love, empathy, persistence, etc (from what I've
seen... :)). So perhaps you can add your writing to this - something
you cherish now that you don't want to lose sight of as you get older or
something you had/knew when you were younger and want to incorporate
back into your life."
December 22, 2012
Dear Ruth,
Writing a letter to your former/future self is really cheesy. You hate reading this already. You’re racking your memory trying to remember what compelled you to do this. So while you’re figuring out exactly how embarrassed you should be for finding a letter like this, let me remind you of the person you once were, or rather, the person I am now:
For about a year now, I’ve felt like an adult. Meaning, I feel responsible for myself and all my big goals are centered around becoming independent - financially, emotionally, etc. Right now, in the moment I’m writing this, I’m home for the first time in a year. Yesterday, I read things I wrote a couple years ago and the person I was seems so confused and naive about her present, her future. I’m still a little confused, but hopefully a little less naive. I have a better idea of what I want to do in life. I want to be a journalist of some sort, to work in public media, to travel, to love and be loved.
There’s a good chance that you’ve changed since I wrote this. I’m assuming it’s been for the better. I don’t have any idea who you are or where life has taken you, but let me remind you of what I’ve learned in the past year so if anything, you can reflect and remember what life was like in 2012, when you were 21/22:
It’s hard to open up to even your closest friends about your vulnerabilities. But take note of what you can and cannot handle alone and reach out accordingly. You feel independent but you can’t do everything on your own.
That being said, be wise about whom you share yourself with. The world says to fill your twenties with spontaneity, but it’s better to have a lifelong friend than a two-week hookup.
You think you are honest and you are. You think you are brave and you are. But act on the things you know to be true. Live an honest life and do so boldly so you never have to look back again and say you knew what you had to do but never had the courage to make it happen.
You are sometimes kind of cold and mean. Well, you can come across as cold and mean when you think you’re just being snippy (though snippy is bad, too). It’s hard to censor yourself so when you do say something hurtful, recognize it and apologize.
You can also be condescending, so apply above rule to this lesson.
Time heals almost every wound. Oh shit, did I really just write that? Oh well, you’ve wasted too much time upset about small things to not remember this.
The things I hope for you are vast. I’ve envisioned your apartment in D.C., New York, London, Hong Kong, and Chicago. I’ve calculated the number of bookshelves you’ll need (at least three) and the kitchen utensils you’ll accumulate for all the great dishes you’ll make. I’ve pictured your byline in your favorite publications. I’ve seen documentation of your family’s history, the comprehensive account you swore to compile for years. You’ve made amends with old friends and great loves. You’ve finally learned how to make fried chicken. You’ve found an exercise routine you can stick with everyday. You’ve finally figured out what you believe about God.
If for one reason or another, you’re reading this and things aren’t as I had hoped, return to the things that inspire you. Consult the things you deem classic. The poetry of Sarah Kay and Harryette Mullen. The writing of Jhumpa Lahiri, Teju Cole, Cheryl Strayed, Andrea Lee, Sylvia Plath.
You are older, and I hope wiser. You don’t believe in luck, so I won’t wish it.
December 22, 2012
Dear Ruth,
Writing a letter to your former/future self is really cheesy. You hate reading this already. You’re racking your memory trying to remember what compelled you to do this. So while you’re figuring out exactly how embarrassed you should be for finding a letter like this, let me remind you of the person you once were, or rather, the person I am now:
For about a year now, I’ve felt like an adult. Meaning, I feel responsible for myself and all my big goals are centered around becoming independent - financially, emotionally, etc. Right now, in the moment I’m writing this, I’m home for the first time in a year. Yesterday, I read things I wrote a couple years ago and the person I was seems so confused and naive about her present, her future. I’m still a little confused, but hopefully a little less naive. I have a better idea of what I want to do in life. I want to be a journalist of some sort, to work in public media, to travel, to love and be loved.
There’s a good chance that you’ve changed since I wrote this. I’m assuming it’s been for the better. I don’t have any idea who you are or where life has taken you, but let me remind you of what I’ve learned in the past year so if anything, you can reflect and remember what life was like in 2012, when you were 21/22:
It’s hard to open up to even your closest friends about your vulnerabilities. But take note of what you can and cannot handle alone and reach out accordingly. You feel independent but you can’t do everything on your own.
That being said, be wise about whom you share yourself with. The world says to fill your twenties with spontaneity, but it’s better to have a lifelong friend than a two-week hookup.
You think you are honest and you are. You think you are brave and you are. But act on the things you know to be true. Live an honest life and do so boldly so you never have to look back again and say you knew what you had to do but never had the courage to make it happen.
You are sometimes kind of cold and mean. Well, you can come across as cold and mean when you think you’re just being snippy (though snippy is bad, too). It’s hard to censor yourself so when you do say something hurtful, recognize it and apologize.
You can also be condescending, so apply above rule to this lesson.
Time heals almost every wound. Oh shit, did I really just write that? Oh well, you’ve wasted too much time upset about small things to not remember this.
The things I hope for you are vast. I’ve envisioned your apartment in D.C., New York, London, Hong Kong, and Chicago. I’ve calculated the number of bookshelves you’ll need (at least three) and the kitchen utensils you’ll accumulate for all the great dishes you’ll make. I’ve pictured your byline in your favorite publications. I’ve seen documentation of your family’s history, the comprehensive account you swore to compile for years. You’ve made amends with old friends and great loves. You’ve finally learned how to make fried chicken. You’ve found an exercise routine you can stick with everyday. You’ve finally figured out what you believe about God.
If for one reason or another, you’re reading this and things aren’t as I had hoped, return to the things that inspire you. Consult the things you deem classic. The poetry of Sarah Kay and Harryette Mullen. The writing of Jhumpa Lahiri, Teju Cole, Cheryl Strayed, Andrea Lee, Sylvia Plath.
You are older, and I hope wiser. You don’t believe in luck, so I won’t wish it.
All the best,
Ruth
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