It’s another year come and gone. 2017, thank you for teaching me to love and to grow stronger despite adversity. I’m not going to lie – I’m happy to see you leave, but there are parts of you that I’ll miss.

To 2016 me –

You’re doing great, despite what you think after a long week of struggling. You’re going to grow so much, and you’re going to face every challenge with a high chin and set shoulders, even if you don’t feel like it. You’re going to leave your family behind for the first time and cry about it, because you’ve always been a crier, but you’re also going to continue moving forward. Just because your world changes, your environment changes, you change, doesn’t mean that you have to let go of the people you love so much now. No matter what, you’re still you. You’re still bright eyes and very curly hair and the girl who says ‘I love you’ to her parents every single night.

2017 will suck a bit, and that’s okay. You’ll write stories when you’re lonely and sing songs when you’re avoiding responsibilities, just like you always do. You’ll sit on a park bench after graduation and think ‘now what? What am I supposed to be now?’ You’ll buy yourself an ice cream and refuse to answer the question.

But, 2016 me, you survive. You eat more candy then healthy on Christmas day, and you try to make plans with a rowdy group of friends over break. Back at home, or back at school, depending on which way you’re feeling, a bunk bed waits for a new semester.

To 2018 me -

I hope you’re surviving as well. I hope you’ve surrounded yourself with people who love you and who you love back. I hope that you’re excited about the future, even if you don’t know what’s in it. I hope you still call your family every once in a while and tell them you love them. I don’t hope you’re happy all the time, because I know how refreshed you feel after a good long cry or a bout of anger-fueled cleaning. I only hope you’re happy most of the time, with one good laugh a day.

I hope you fall in love. I hope you fall in love with your best friends, with yourself, with your aunts and uncles, with your city, and with the subject matter you’re learning. I hope you ride a bike on a hot summer day with popsicle juice sticking your lips together. I hope you continue to create, to make music and to write, and I hope that you feel proud of yourself.

Because you know what, 2018 me? I’m proud of you now. I love you already, and I haven’t even met you yet. Don’t embarrass me too much.

Happy new year, me. Let’s make it a good one.