Dear 14,
You’re going to high school! It’s not going to be easy, but it’s going to be amazing. You’ll meet a wonderful combination of friendship, mentorship from teachers, brains, and creative talents here. The only downside is that you’re going to get used to it, and then be disappointed by all future academic pursuits.
When you go on the marine biology trip to Jamaica, try not to scream into the snorkel when you see the octopus a foot away from your nose. It’s still really loud.
Also, the high you get from the cigar-sized joint on this trip will be the cleanest one you will ever have.
It’s the 80s, and fashion is awful, but lose some layers. You look like a tent.
Dear 21,
I know, I already told you, McGill would be a big letdown. Sorry. But on one of your summers away, you’re going to meet someone true and who you deeply admire. Unfortunately you will stay in relationship with him approximately five years too many. You’ll need to kiss him goodbye.
By the way, a bagel and a litre of ice cream is not a balanced meal.
Dear 28,
Hi you! You made it through law school after all! You look great, the dancing you do at the ballet studio has never been so good. It won’t last forever; your love of it will pass when your teacher does, but I’m glad you’re squeezing from it everything you can.
I also love how you’ve left your comfort zone and are exploring the adult dating world. You’re going to have a lot of fun here, it’s about time you felt some of your own power. It’s not the power you’ll ultimately want, but it has its place. You will, however, make one mistake that you’ll regret forever, the one that costs you an old and would-have-been-forever friend.
Also, you’re going to meet a boy, who will take you to his family’s cottage. There, you are going to step off a cliff and jump into water five stories below. When your feet hit the water’s surface, it will be hard, and fractures will course their way up your spine. You will not be able to work for a year, and during that year, you will be faced with pain, the likes of which you have worked your whole life to keep at bay.
The upside, which you absolutely, completely, totally will not be able to see, is that there is an end to it, and at this end, you will become your own container to fill up that empty space inside you. Everything will change.
Also: that boy, he’s not going to leave. Not in the hospital, not during your rages, not when you’re a million miles away. You’re going to choose him.
Dear 34,
You’re going to have a boy! He’ll be beautiful, but premature, just 4 pounds. His attachment to you won’t be clear for a year or so – it’ll be hard. For the first time, you are going to give every ounce of your strength towards an endeavour and fail: you won’t be able to breastfeed. And the transition to parenthood will bring your marriage to its knees.
But here’s the best part: it all gets better. You will end up wonderfully attached to your son, and the next son, and you will even have a third child. Your marriage will rise up from the ashes and your bonds to each other will be stronger than before. You’re even going to stop reading all the conflicting, contorted parenting advice in the parenting book empire and mother your kids in a way that feels right to you.
Your life struggles are hardly over, and it might be nice to have your old skin back, You’ll miss your pre-baby uterine muscles too. But you won’t fall prey to advertisers trying to make people fear getting old. Like a cheese, your life keeps getting better with age.
I’ve really been enjoying the letters to “past selves” you all have been writing. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but this post really touched me. So with that said, thank you (all) for sharing and thanks for the inspiration!
I felt a little nervous publishing it, as it’s a personal post, so it’s really nice to hear your words. Thank you very much, auntytriss.
Carol – This is my favourite post that you have written. I echo, Auntytriss – there is something about it that is so touching, perhaps because it seems like I am reading a private journal.
Loving it!
Thanks BA! I remember your mother’s words whenever I think of your post… it seems her advice extends well beyond you.
Like Auntytriss, I too have been enjoying these letters so much, and find my mind wandering back to them at idle points in the day. It’s also making me think what I might say to my earlier self. (There’s definitely some echoing of the recurrent theme of “he’s not worth it!” in my mental drafts!)
It is wonderful to know in hindsight (as opposed to just believe, if that, in the moment) that one is better off without a relationship; I find it totally reassuring.
Have you considered just going for it and writing a letter to your earlier self? You wouldn’t have to show anyone if you didn’t want to, but it might be fun/revealing to see what you’d say…
Carol, can you write to Nathalie at 40 and tell her that a bowl of cereal and turkish delight is not a balanced dinner, please? She does not seem to have your wisdom….
Depending on the cereal, you could do worse. Maybe Nathalie at 45 will dine on quinoa porridge and kale chips.
Carol,
Your post brought tears to my eyes like so many of the commenters on here alot of what you wrote was like reading a personal journal.
I too stayed too long but now have a wonderful man in my life and as I look onto 40 in about a month I can hardly wait for the journies I am going to take with my 8,2 and 1 year olds….. If I could tell my past self one thing it would be to never worry about what comes next….it will all turn out wonderfully in the long run.
Kudos to you and thank you for the tears and giggles.
Shannon,
Thank you for your lovely comment. Although it’s true that if I could go back in time I would make different choices, it is wonderful to know that the choices I did make have brought me to where I am, because I’m so glad and gratitude for what I now have. It’s such a good feeling.