Dear 30-Year-Old Me,

I hope that by now we’ve locked down that corner office with a view and have our 20 cats and dogs running around our home. I hope that we spend our time frolicking on warm San Diego beaches and sipping on frozen strawberry margaritas. I hope we go to happy hour with our friends and then come home to our significant other, who approves of and loves all 20 cats and dogs. Most of all, though, I hope that you are finally, actually happy.

I know that happiness has always felt like something that has evaded you. Like it was never a constant in your life--our lives, really. But I’m taking steps today, and everyday forward, to help us. I’m attending therapy, I’m becoming more assertive and addressing issues when I have them, and I’m learning every day how to become a better me, so that I can make you a better you.

There was a point when I couldn’t see a future with you in it, and that terrified me. I didn’t want to die, but at the same time, I couldn’t see where I was going to fit in. I couldn’t see myself as happy or successful or driven. I couldn’t see me, as a 30-year-old woman, sitting around and laughing with my coworkers over a cup of coffee. I could hardly even see myself getting out of bed most days. I don’t know when I stopped believing that you were a possibility, but I’m honestly sorry for it.

You are a part of my life that I’m determined to be proud of and to be happy with. And perhaps, when I eventually become you, I can look back and write a thank-you letter to my 22-year-old self for trying so damn hard when I know I just wanted to give up half the time. The future is hard and uncertain, but one thing that I do know for sure is that I’m going to make sure that I am growing up and making the best choices possible for you. For us, and for our future.

Right now, I’m still learning to love myself so that you can love yourself, too. I know that insecurities will never go away. I know there’s a nagging voice in your head reminding you how old you are and how much others of your age have accomplished. I know that some thoughts are incessant and you can’t always shake that feeling of being depressed or anxious. I have those days now, in my early 20’s, and I’m learning to say “screw that” when one of those intrusive thoughts pops into my head. That’s what I want you to do, too, when you feel yourself getting low.

Consider this letter a love letter, to remind you--us--that we are amazing. That we are beautiful forces of nature. That we are boss b*tches, who get the job done and who know what they want (or, in my case, are figuring it out). That no matter how old you get, you’re still only as young as your spirit is. So stay carefree, laugh as much as possible, smile every day, and remember what I’ve taught you and what our experiences have done for you. If our only regret is the fact that we have crow’s feet from laughing too much, then I think that’s a pretty good life lived.

With Love,

Your 22-Year-Old Self