Several months ago, The Guardian published Stephen Fry’s letter to his 16 year old self. Several days later, hundreds of readers responded with their own versions. Some are hilarious, others sarcastic:
Dear Self,
You still don’t have that Ferrari.
Dear Me at 16,
I’m still trying to write that novel.
Dear Self,
Hard to believe, but it’s only going to get worse. None of your dreams will be fulfilled. Your misery won’t go away, but your youth, exuberance and hope will.
I’ve been writing letters to myself for years, sending them via email and automatically filtering them into a folder that I’ll read through later, when I’m old and grey and have a sense of humour about the colossal dramas that have consumed my life. I wrote a letter to my 27 year old self just a few weeks short of my 27th birthday. It captured the fears I had about leaving my job, my excitement about travel, my insecurities about the unknowns. It brought me back to the time and place it was written, when I was feeling lost, hopeful, scared and winded. I was reminded of the time capsule letters we wrote in junior high school, to be opened 5 years later.
Well, here’s an attempt at a reverse time capsule. A Back-to-the-Future-Part-2-esque letter to my 16 year old self (as an 11th grader), a decade from the future.
Dear Me,
This is the year that you first delve into poetry and writing. You fall in love with a Texan. He’s not even that good looking, but he has the highest academic average all three years, and that, my dear, really rocks your boat. He will suck as a boyfriend. And he will give you the gift of your very first heartache. That heartache, in turn, inspires a lot of creativity. You’ll dedicate several pieces to him: a sad one and then Ode to Bastard #1. Just know that you will survive the pain.
Work hard at school. Even if I tell you otherwise, you will still work harder than I would advise. You are an immigrant child – driven, needing to please, perfectionist. Don’t worry, it will mess you up later in life but not so drastically that you won’t recover. If anything, your roots will give you the international and cultural perspective that will be invaluable as an adult.
Do more sports. Find a better hiding place for your diary. Break more rules – miss curfew once in a while, question your teachers, speed on the highway! Geez, Denise, just live a little! And even though he will suck as a boyfriend, make out with Eric more (you will regret not doing this for a really long time. I mean, if he can’t be good to your soul, you should at least enjoy his body).
That is all.
