An Open Letter To The Girl I Used To Be

Dear past self,

Hi there. You don’t know me yet, but in a few short years, you will. A lot has changed, including us, but I remember you well.

I still sometimes cringe when you come up in conversation. Your quirks and crazy antics are still favorite stories for our friends to retell. I think back to when I was you, and I'm amazed at how young and foolish we were. We’re still foolish, but not as young and not as scared.

I know you probably have lots of questions about where we ended up. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we didn’t get swept up in any wild college romances. (But trust me, it’s for the best.) We’re still living with Mom and Dad, but we bought our first car and paid our way through college. Most of the time, we still have no idea what we’re doing, but I’ll tell you a secret: no one really does.

We’ve gotten hurt, badly, and watched our friends get hurt, too. We’ve made some huge mistakes, had our heart broken and embarrassed ourselves more times that I care to count. We had to leave some friends behind and had to watch some of them move on without us.

But we have a group of amazing people in our life now, friends as close as family who would do anything for us. We’ve done things that you would never have dreamed possible. We conquered our fear of public speaking. (But our fear of spiders is still very much alive). We graduated college. We performed in front of hundreds. We stopped caring so much about what other people think.

We’re happy.

All of your mistakes, breakdowns, tribulations, triumphs, goals—they’re what helped get us to where I am now. So thank you for being you. Thank you for making me, me.

Hang in there, past self. It gets better.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, a little.

Sincerely,
Present me