a girl in the world

finding beauty, pleasure and grace on the road less traveled

A big storm is forecasted to come into the Bay tomorrow. And I can’t wait. There is something so beautiful about the rain. It gives me an excuse to find a comfy corner, some hot tea and a good book. It reminds me of winters in London – cold, rainy but somehow just perfect.

I’ve been home for about three weeks now and I’m antsy to get movin’ again. It’s nice to have some sort of a plan for my life up until the end of the year. When January comes, I’ll be on the road again – trekking ’round Asia for a few months. Sometimes I wonder when I’ll get tired of the nomad life – when I’ll crave a real home, my own house, a neighbourhood to call my own. Maybe just a few more months so that I can get the wanderlust out of my system. I got an email from S.C. about the concept of finding a home. She spoke about wanting to find some form of stability after months of wandering in the South Pacific. I totally understand where she’s coming from. At some point, it’s important to find/create/imagine a place where you can rest your wings.

I have moments when I do wish I had my own apartment, where I’m not living out of boxes and suitcases. And then other times, the thought of having a lease or a mortgage is just the scariest thing on the planet.

When we were traveling through Italy, home became the place we were staying in that night. And that worked for me. I loved it. We did laundry in the sink, went grocery shopping in the corner market and when I really wanted to give myself the illusion of stability, I would unpack all my dresses and hang them in the closet (even if we were only staying for two days). It was a conscious effort to make a place a home. And I think that’s what I’ll have to do for a while. And maybe that’s OK for now. Actually, maybe that would be just perfect for now.

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.

I’ve complained a lot about the American system – about the slight arrogance associated with the immigration process, about the lack of internationalism, about the propagation of extreme materialism in the media and in youth. But golly, there are so many great things about this country!

For one, thank God for efficient online banking! Bank of America is a star! ATMs scan cheques, when they say they have 24 hour customer service they actually mean it, my credit card has photo ID built into it, I can route all e-bills into my banking profile automatically and I can apply for a loan without having to see a person! This is amazing. TIME TIME TIME is so valuable and Bank of America has just saved me hours of hassle!

You know what else is great?! Amazon delivers within two days ANYWHERE in the country. WIFI is actually easily accessible. Craigslist, eBay and Twitter are the norm. All the features of Google Maps, Google Voice, Google 411 work here! I can have a car that will take me from point A to point B whenever I choose. Paperless billing and banking is allowed. Cell phone plans are reasonable. And I can purchase fresh mangoes for 20 cents as opposed to 2 GBP each!

I know I complain much. But really, it’s all for show. Life is definitely much easier and so much more efficient here. So be thankful!

Hi, I'm Denise. I'm a writer, artist and photographer. This is where I share what I'm seeing, learning and making.


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