Dear Young People,

I want you to stand up. I want you to walk to the mirror closest to you and stare your reflection in the eyes. I want you to study yourself, look at the vitality in your limbs and the questioning, determined hope in your eyes and the way your skin doesn’t wrinkle at the corners of your mouth and at your forehead yet. I want you to take a second to capture what you look like young, how your clothes fit on your body, the way you hold yourself, the tangles in your hair or the nails you bite in class. I want you to see yourself, really see yourself, remembering that you won’t look like that forever. That one day this person in your mirror will be a memory you look back on with nostalgia and affection. Remember that you and me and everyone we know are going to grow old.

Now I want you to give yourself a round of applause.

Seriously.

If you’re a young adult/twenty something, you should give yourself a break. I really mean that. Clap your hands together and let yourself accept the praise and acceptance of yourself you might very well be in desperate need of. We live in a culture that tends to look down on young people, that paints pictures of us that make us look lazy, uninformed, uninspired and needlessly indignant. We live in a culture where someone is always asking us what our next step is, like the one we’re on isn’t hard enough to take. We live in a culture where people act like we’re supposed to know what we believe, even though we’ve only just started actually having to test and redefine our viewpoints.

My point is, guys, that this, all of this stuff we’re living through? The changes, the political games, the career choices, the friendships and relationships that have to be maintained or ended, the opportunities lost and found? All of this is so hard. Like really, really hard. And we need to have the grace to accept that, pat ourselves on the back and just take a deep breath. We work hard, we study, we protest, we take the late shift and we close up at midnight when we have to be up at six the next morning for our final. We do not sit idly by. We do not “go gently into that good night.” We talk loudly, we put our hands up in class, we want to make a difference. We strive, beg, desperately grab for balance.

I spend so much of my time worrying that I’m not doing enough. That little voice in my head is constantly critiquing my own actions and reactions, asking me why I don’t work harder or longer hours or get all my assignments turned in three days early, why I haven’t spent enough time with my friends/boyfriend/family lately or why I don’t have a plan for tomorrow or the day after that. I worry that I’m not investing in my studies. I worry I’m not working hard enough for social change. I worry I’ve given up on writing. I worry that I’m a financial burden when my paycheck runs out and my parents have to step in to pay my phone bill. I worry I’m a screw up when I seem to be the only one struggling to juggle everything right-side up. I worry I’m not walking fast enough, eating healthy enough, saying any of the right things. The truth is, some of those worries are justified.

Because I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t have it made in the shade. I’m struggling. Sometimes I struggle more than others. But the important thing is, I get up. Every day. And I try as hard as I damn well can. I go to classes, I do the assignments, I tell myself not to skip, I forget to take my medication, then take it, then forget it, then take it. I promise my boyfriend I’ll have the weekend free then rearrange half my schedule just to make that a possibility. I end up falling asleep on dates (yeah, this actually happened, we were in a Buffalo Wild Wings, I'm just that together). I annoy my teachers. I please my teachers. I forget my teacher’s names. I don’t get the job, get the next one, then have another rejection for the one I apply to after that. I have flaked on my friends when I can’t hold my eyes open, but I always try to show up when it counts. I say I’m sorry. I try to be a good person. I try to understand where I’m going. I try not to forget where I’m from. We all do.

That’s why we should feel okay. Cause we’re not perfect. It is hard. That’s okay to admit. We’re all exhausted sometimes. But we’re trying. And that… that does count for something. It matters. Just don’t forget that, okay?

So when you see yourself in that mirror, when you behold your young self full of potential and the beauty of all the things you haven’t done yet but will someday, take a deep breath. Memorize your face. Memorize the emotions you feel right now, even if right now you feel hopelessly lost. Remember you are loved. Remember it is okay to love yourself too. Think of what you want to remember when you look back on these years in three decades.

Now get back out there. The world really does need you, your youth, your enthusiasm, and more importantly, your ideas.

Much Love,

Noelle