Dear Ali,
It’s hard for me to accept this reality—the reality where you’re 16-years-old. To me, you are still 6. You still pronounce “movie theater” as “moobie peters.” You still crawl in bed with me when it’s thunder storming and fight with me about which sugared cereal we’re going to get when the weekend rolls around (Cinnamon Toast Crunch if I win, Reese’s Puffs if you do). But, hard as it is for me to accept, this is the reality. You’re 16 now. You love rainstorms and the only movie you’re interested in watching is "The Emperor's New Groove" for the 3,000th time in the comfort of your own bed. At least you still have that unexplainable love of Reese’s Puffs.
The truth is that you being 16 majorly freaks me out—not because I don’t trust you, I do—but because there’s an entire world out there that you’re just beginning to experience, and that world can be awful just as often as it can be amazing. I know that you know this already. You’re a lot braver than I was at your age, and you’ve got more street smarts than I could ever dream of acquiring. But I’ll never stop worrying about you. I’ll never get rid of the tiny part of myself that wants to wrap you in a hug and keep you there forever (even though neither of us likes hugs all that much).
Underneath my worry, however, I’m also really excited for you. Life is tough, yes—but you are too. You’re also talented. And hilarious. And smart. (Seriously, So. Smart.). I know that whatever you choose to do, be it veterinary school, Youtube stardom, volleyball, or something you haven’t even discovered yet, that you’ll be amazing at it. I know this because I know how determined (and sometimes annoying) you can be once you set your mind to something and I know that that kind of grit has a valued place out there in the real world.
But your future is not the only thing I’m thinking about today—I’m also remembering the terrifying, amazing, anxiety-riddled thrill ride that is being 16. You’re already doing so many things better than I was back then. You love people (and animals…mostly animals) fiercely and unapologetically. You are bold. You are honest. You are a fighter. You ask big questions, but you are wise enough to realize that no one can answer them for you but yourself. As much as I want you to succeed in all your future endeavors, I want more for you to be fully present in the life you’re living now. Keep your eyes and your heart open. Have adventures. Ask questions. Be the beautiful, selfie-loving, dog-crazy, Eno-obsessed, socks-and-slides-wearing person that you are because she’s the absolute best (even when she’s being a pain-in-the-butt).
I also want to take this opportunity to apologize for all the times that I haven’t been the big sister I should have been. I’m sorry for ignoring you, for belittling you, and for making you feel like you weren’t going about life in the right way because you weren’t doing things the way that I did them. I realize now that there is no right way to grow up. Everyone is doing the best they can, and you’re doing better than most. I’m glad that we don’t fight so much now that I’m in college, but I also miss being home enough to fight with you on a daily basis. I miss the notes you write on the mirror telling me not to touch your stuff, and the way you always insist on rolling the windows down and blaring embarrassing county songs when we’re in the car. I’m sorry that when you ask me to “just drive somewhere, anywhere,” that I always make you come up with a destination. I’ll try to be more adventurous from now on.
But please know, that no matter how much I yell at you or roll my eyes or ignore what you say and try to talk you into doing things that I want to (sorry about that too), that I always, always, always love you. Always. You’re one of my favorite people on this planet and nothing will ever change that. (Also, without you I would be shamefully clueless about technology, the latest slang, Pinterest trends, and basically anything cool).
So, happy sweet 16, sis. I hope that this day is amazing, and I hope that this year is the brightest one yet. Eat a slice of cake for me and know that I’m thinking of you. I miss you like crazy, I love you like mad. I promise that when I come home for Thanksgiving we’ll get in the car, put on some country music, and I’ll let you drive me somewhere, anywhere.
Sincerely,
Maggie (…Gaggy)
