Dear 18-year-old self,
I write to you, this little note, as I imagine you frantically rummaging through your inbox loaded with birthday wishes, for that one message from that one boy. Hate to break it to you; he will not wish you today, or tomorrow. That does not mean you stay up and gloom over it. You’re going to have a great birthday with beautiful people. Keep your heart open and stay in the moment with them.
You’re eighteen! You are legally an adult— eligible to vote, voice your opinion. You will stress upon this every time they continue treating you like a child. Let me tell you, they still do. It bothers me too, but I am glad I’m still mom’s little girl when things go haywire, and all I need is that she hugs me and tells me it is okay.
Keep writing— I enjoy having a look at the journal every once in a while. I wish you could pour your real thoughts in there. The entire truth, the good and the ugly. What are you afraid of? Someone else reading it and judging you, or facing reality? Carrying the burden has only created a turbid storm. But we are coming through; I assure you that. Just go on with the writing— be it the journal, that poem someone told you “lacked depth,” or those stories you left unfinished because you grew tired. Finish the things you started.
Now is the time you follow the tiny voices in your head. Be bold to choose who you want to become. Things may not exactly turn out the way you imagine, but you’ll have no qualms of not having tried. And always remember that there’s an alternate route to every dead-end.
When that seemingly perfect boy changes his mind, don’t lock yourself up. Things, or people— they’ll never be ‘perfect’. But believe me, one day you will find your home in that one person. Don’t wait for him. First, love yourself.
Your journey towards becoming a wonderful somebody begins now. Slow down a bit. Read, write, sing, make friends, fall in and out of love, and lastly, be proud of yourself. You got this!
Still pretty silly but just a bit wiser, older self.