A letter to my 18-year-old self
Yesterday was my sister’s graduation. I can’t quite believe it. It seems as though it was yesterday, rather than eight years ago, when I was the one wearing the mortarboard, feeling as though my life was about the begin. And as I sat here, among a crowd of proud, wistful parents, looking at my 18 year-old sister, admiring her for the relentless pursuit of her own desires, envying her for all the excitement that she feels and will feel, and wishing her bucketloads of resilience, courage and self-belief, I wonder if I could give some of that to her. I wish I could. I can’t. But what I could do is say the things I would say if I had just one more day, back in time, with my 18-year old self. Hoping that she might find something for her among the lines.
Dear 18-year old self,
1. I am so proud of you. Do you remember when you were so anxious, that you feared this day will never come? When the distance between you and graduation day, filled with IOP, IA, EE, TOK seemed like a deep lake full of crocodiles that you had to swim through? Well, you made it. Safe and sound on the other side. Maybe with a bit too much stress, maybe with a bit too little sleep, maybe with a few extra arguments with Mom. But you made it. Well done, you.
2. One day you will look back and you feel as though you will give two toes from your right foot, and four inches of your hair (we all know that’s a lot scarier for you) to go back and re-live just one more day of high school. I know, I know, you don’t get that now. You think that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. But trust me. So, please. Soak it all in. Wallow in every moment. Embrace every feeling. Let all experiences fill you up to the brim as if you were an empty water tank. So that one day when you look back, you won’t ache with desire, you will smile with content.
3. The next three years of your life are your carte blanche to live as if you haven’t figured anything out (though chances are you won’t have after that either, but when you’re at university no one will judge you for it). The next three years, are your unofficial excuse to be irresponsible, to think that council tax is a Spotify playlist, to have fun, to let your friendships be the focal point of your life. So do. Have fun. Meet people. Make friends. Go out. Freeze in your bodycon dress outside the club’s queue at 2am. Wake up for your lecture at 7am.
4. Your own beliefs, thoughts and feelings have as much credulity as those of others. Hold onto them with dear life. Don’t lose yourself. Trust yourself even when it feels scary and hard and lonely. Do it for me.
6. Spoiler alert: Nobody gives two shits about how much you weigh. Those 2 kgs that you think make all the difference? They really don’t. Stop torturing yourself over it. Focusing on your weight is trying to solve the issue backwards. Focus on living your life from your heart, on liking yourself as you are, on listening to your body. Everything else will fall into place.
7. There will come a night (or many nights) when you will be sitting at home, on your sofa, in your pajamas, and friends will ask you out. You will feel too lazy to go. You will feel as though there is no point in putting on make-up for “just an hour”. You’re wrong. So wrong. Life is now, out there, where you’re invited. Go pick up that concealer.
8. Don’t hide your vulnerability. The people that deserve you, will love you because of it, not despite it.
9. Call grandma more often. Tell her as many things as you can. Listen to everything she has to say.
10. The flowers are from Vladi.
11. Avoid any men who make you feel as though you aren’t enough as you are. In fact, avoid anyone who makes you feel that way.
13. Try to find your element. That thing that when you do it, you forget to check your phone. That thing that you don’t do for other people, you do it for yourself. That thing that fills your days with meaning. And when you find it, never let it go. Invest in it, nurture it, let it guide you.
12. It’s going to be alright, it’s going to be okay.
With love,
N.
