#ALetterToMy16YearOldSelf
Dear 16 year-old me,
Well, if you’re wondering why on
earth this is being addressed to you, you can thank dear for it. In case you’re
wondering who “Dear” is, you’ll find out soon enough. Figure it out yourself; I’m
not giving you hints because it’s bloody obvious. While I know you’re super
dense and naïve, I still won’t tell you.
Anyway, I’m here to tell you how the
next 6 years of your life is going to be like. It’s not as grim as you thought
it might be, but then again it’s not exactly super bright. Yes, everybody says
you have the potential but let’s face it kid; it’s like a standard script
everybody says to teens while they’re growing up.
I’m here to let you know that your
16th year will be one of the toughest you’ll ever have to get
through before you hit 20. Not just because some teachers are going to asses or
painfully boring but also due to other factors. Always watch your back, because
nobody is going to do that for you. The ones who you should’ve trusted enough
you shied away while the ones you shouldn’t you clung to. Such genius, much
heartache. You’ll feel alone. You’ll feel depressed at times but you’ll be fine.
You forgive too easily and forget too quickly. I’m not sure if I should call
you lucky or not. With a big enough sigh you can let everything go just like
that. Truly amazing. /slow clap/
You start to build walls and distant
yourself and stuff because you know that’s the only way to survive high school.
But surviving is not living. You’ll learn that later as well through something
called Tumblr.
But you’ll get over it. All that
loneliness that you feel, all that “I’m a weirdo others don’t understand me
neither will they understand why I love the things I do so much”, will go away
because you’re going to be introduced to a group of people who will take over
your life in the years to come. Nine charming young ladies will burrow their
way into your heart and you will finally learn what is it like to fall in love
and have a coping mechanism for whenever reality becomes too hard to handle. You’ll
laugh and cry with them. Have tonnes of their pictures in your hard disc, spending
money left and right (within reasonable means of course) on their stuff. You’ll
fall in love with a tall, lanky blonde, a tall, hilarious blonde, a beautiful,
French blonde and somebody named after the weather. And you’ll love every
second of it because they’ll be your coping mechanism.
The next big thing to happen to you
will be during your first year as an undergrad. You’ll meet somebody who will
break you from your self-imposed isolation. That somebody is going to change
your life, too. You will be smitten and heartbroken even; but yet, you have
never been happier. Your face lights up when that person is around and you’ll
feel absolutely bored and restless when you’re on your own again. It makes you
sad to think of the future so you always cherish the moments spent together. You’ll
feel like crying even sometimes. But you’ll be fine. Because that person will
also be the reason you smile. And your first meeting could not have been even
more clichéd. Go find out yourself. It’s no fun if I tell you everything. But I
will tell you that you’ll still be fine at the end.
Undergrad won’t be easy but you’ll
pull through thanks to good friends. Cherish them because they’re hard to find.
Some of those from high school will only be there whenever they feel like being
friendly. But not all. You’ll get what I mean if you were paying attention to
whatever I’ve said at the beginning.
Anyway, what I really want to tell
you is that you’ll be fine. Whenever you think that you’re doing something
really stupid and will regret, think about this: if nobody came back from the
future to stop you from making that decision then, how bad can it be? Amirite? Heck,
you know, one day somebody is going to come up to you and say that they look up
to you because you were the only one who cared about them back in school. And
that’s something wonderful to know. And also, you’ll discover something called
the internet and puns. Two things that’ll make you wonder how did you keep
yourself occupied before discovering them.
I do, however, have some bad news. Life
ain’t a piece of cake, honey. You’ll forever be plagued by peer pressure. You’ll
still do whatever people say despite Kristie’s best efforts to teach you to say
no. You’ll always feel inferior to the rest of your friends because of body
issues. You’ll always feel that you’re not good enough. You’ll have the
toughest time trusting people because you don’t know if they have any ulterior
motives. You don’t trust compliments. You’ll always feel that you look so
stupid in nice clothes because you think that all that you are fitted for are
jeans and a baggy shirt. People are always going to say that you’re not good
enough. People are always going to say that you should do this and this instead
of what you really want to. You’re going to get a lot of criticisms because of
the way you look, the way you carry yourself. You’re going to learn the hard way
that pretty people have it easy in this world and you’re not one of them. You’re
going to learn that the moment you step into society. People won’t give a shit
about what you want to say or even pay attention to you because you’re never
going to be pretty enough to be noticed. You’ll be invisible again, like in
high school. You’ll meet people you detest in an instant and also are going to
treat you like you’re a worthless piece of shit. And worse of all, you’re going
to get a piece of news that will turn your world upside down in the summer of
your 22nd year.
That’s a lot of shit to put up with.
But you’ll be fine, you’ll always be fine. You’re going to soldier through
everything and be a half-baked smartass, the one you are today. You’ll find a
good friend among the acquaintances and you’ll learn that life can be
beautiful.
Life is beautiful, and so are you.
I love you, and all of your weirdness.
So please, please learn to be at
ease with yourself and love thyself.
Because if you won’t, who else will?
With Love,
Your half-baked smartass 22 year-old
self.
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