So let’s say that a 14-year-old version of me was alive right now at the same time as my current 20-year-old self. I've learned a lot in the past six years, so if I was 14-year-old me meeting 20-year-old me, I would want to take all the advice from her as I possibly could. If I had to put myself in my own shoes when I was 14 and write a letter to myself now, I would have so many questions, and it would probably go a little something like this:

Dear 20-Year-Old Me,

I found out my friends decided not to invite me to their pool party. Actually, they have been avoiding me and ignoring me for a while and I don’t know what I did so wrong…

Why didn’t you tell me that I was never going to talk to these girls again, and something as simple as a pool party didn’t matter? Why didn’t you tell me to stop trying so hard to try to be accepted by these girls who are still stuck in high school three years after graduation? Why didn’t you tell me to go spend time with my family and stop caring so much about these people that don’t care about me? The time I spent wishing I could fit in with them was time I could have spent embracing each day I had with my family and true friends.

Everyone at school has on Hollister jeans and Sperrys and Nike. I feel like everyone judges me for not having these brands. I’ll never fit in…

Why didn’t you tell me that I wouldn’t remember the faces that wore these brands and that they wouldn’t remember mine? You should have told me it didn’t actually matter if I had a certain brand on because nobody cares that much. Everyone is too concerned with how they look to care about what other people look like.

Why didn’t you tell me that I would soon love to go thrift shopping and buy clothing that is just as unique as I am? Why didn’t you tell me to stop spending my money on material items when I could have been spending that money on travel and experiences?

This strange person keeps looking at me and trying to talk to me. They won’t leave me alone. They aren’t really in my group of friends, so it’s a little weird.

Why didn’t you tell me that a simple conversation or one little compliment could have made that person's entire day or maybe even saved a life? You should have told me to be nice to every single person because I don’t know what they’re going through. You should have told me that one day I could end up working for that person or needing their help. Everything could have been different if I would have just said "hi" or had a quick conversation. There’s nothing wrong with being kind to everyone, despite your friend groups or “status."

Mom won’t let me stay home from school. She keeps waking me back up this morning. And she keeps bugging me to do my homework. It’s so annoying…

Why didn’t you tell me she was so “annoying” every day and only got me up and made me do my homework because she wanted me to go to school, get my diploma and become one step closer to success? She’s the one that would drive me to school in the morning when I missed the bus. She was the only one that cared every single day about my grades. She wanted me to have a better life than she ever did. Why didn’t you tell me to say thank you and hug her every day for everything she’s done for me?

These girls are all so beautiful and popular. I wish my hair was as pretty as hers and I could do my makeup like that…

Why didn’t you tell me that I am my own worst critic? Why didn’t you tell me to stop comparing myself to these other girls and just feel beautiful in my own skin? I spent so much time trying to be someone I wasn’t…why didn’t you tell me it was a waste of time? We’re all so different in our own way, so it’s pointless to try to be something that God didn’t intend me to be.

My parents won’t let me go out to a party after prom at my friend’s house. I’m almost an adult…why can’t I just do what I want? They can’t tell me what to do.

Why didn’t you tell me that they just cared so much about me? That they didn’t want me to get into any trouble that would jeopardize my future and they wanted to see me come home alive that night? And those rare nights they did let me go out…one of them waited up, partly because they wanted to make sure I got home on time, but also because they couldn’t go to sleep at night knowing I was out and about.

My brother won’t get out of my room and my sister won’t stop stealing all of my clothes. They won’t stay out of my business and just leave me alone!!!

Why didn’t you tell me to stop being so mean to my younger brother and sister? That, four or five years down the road, my brother and my sister would become my best friend? Why didn’t you carve into my brain how much of an influence I was on my younger brother and sister...that I should have been guiding them instead of pushing them away? Why didn’t you remind me that there are only children out there that would love to have someone to hang out with all the time? You should have told me to stop being selfish with my possessions and that having a sister that wears the same size is just like having two closets.

You should have told me that a house full of siblings is just more love to go around, a group of forever-friends and a guarantee that there is no such thing as a boring day.

I hate how big my nose is. I hate how big my forehead is. I wish I had straight teeth. I hate all the veins and stretch marks. Why can’t I just be perfect?

Why didn’t you tell me that these features are what make me unique and make up my identity? Why didn’t you tell me to stop being so judgmental of myself and stop hating myself for things I can’t change? Every single person has something they are self-conscious about, and chances are, they are too worried about their insecurities to even take notice of yours. Why didn't you remind me to love myself every day?

My parents won’t let me go on dates with boys. She won’t let us in my room and we can’t be alone. I really like him. It's not like we're gonna do anything, it's not a big deal. You were young once, don’t you understand?

You should have told me that yes, my parents did understand. They understood more than I could have, though, considering they both had a child when they were only 18 -- that they didn’t want the same thing to happen to me. They wanted their little girl to stay a little girl for as long as possible because they knew one day I would grow up and not be around as much anymore. They wanted me to focus on my future and not let (dumb) boys ruin all the good that was going to come my way.

“Text me when you get there!” The words I hear my mom say every single day. I’m just going to school 10 miles down the road… I think I’ll make it there safe.

Why didn’t you tell me that they needed reassurance that their child was alive? Every day isn’t guaranteed and something bad could happen at any given moment. Why didn’t you tell me that those three words (“I made it!”) would put my parents at ease? They have it hard enough, why didn’t you let me know that a simple text would make their lives a little bit easier?

You know, you really could have made my teenage years a whole lot easier if you would have given me a little advice -- like if you told me there was a good reason behind everything my parents do. I would have cherished every single moment I had with them, instead of always trying to get out of the house. I would have hung out with my brother and sister, instead of arguing with them all the time. I would have spent less time worrying about what other people think and spent more time giving back to the community, or working towards making myself a better person.
I guess that’s just how life works, though. You learn through experiences and try to get better day by day.

Future me, just know you could write a similar letter to your future self, six years down the road when you're 26. Let this letter be a lesson and a sign of reassurance. There's still so much to learn, but always know that things get better.

Love,
14-Year-Old You