How much can a photograph show? Sometimes, the outside reflects the changes within, sometimes it is a mask. You cannot always see the transformations someone has gone through displayed as a moment frozen in time. The girl in these photos is much the same and much changed. Growth has been a painful transformation at times. Some dreams remain the same, some gave way to sweeter fruit than I’d have ever envisioned. A decade is a long time. It is especially long when it bridges over such a time of transition in your life, from high school through graduate school – age 16 to 26. The more I found myself reflecting on growth and change over the last decade, the more a felt compelled to honor the ‘transformation’ with a letter to a younger me. Letters to our younger selves can be therapeutic – tending to your inner child, of sorts. There is a lot of wisdom we’d love to be able to show our younger selves. And a lot of wisdom we need to remind ourselves we’ve acquired along the way. I love reading others letters and I hope you enjoy reading this one. There is always so much we can learn from each others journeys! ❤️
Dear Katie (circa 2010),
Being a junior in high school might not feel, admittedly, like a glorious time. Everyone will say things like, “These are the best years of your life.” We both know you are not feeling that way. You’ve bounced back against bullies, weathered the tension public school, suffered sitting alone at lunch for one miserable hour per day until you found a group of friends. Don’t let the words sway you. Sure, the world of “Adulting” is blissfully far away, responsibilities are barely a whisper on your shoulders, but there is so much good waiting ahead for you. This isn’t end-all-be-all. It is cliché – you’d look at me with hope mixed with doubt if I could tell you this to your face – but “it gets better.” (Hold out, dear one. Some of the friends you have met these past two years will always be by your side over the next decade. Senior year is infinitely better. There will be memories and moments that you will smile about for years to come.)
Try not to take life so seriously. Your head may be spinning with ideas of where you’ll go and indecision over your future. There will be more decisions to come, sometimes you won’t know if you will be making the right choices, and sometimes you won’t know what choice to make at all. There will be moments of Dark Night of the Soul. It’s okay. Just put one foot in front of the other. You won’t get anywhere if you allow yourself to freeze in place. You’ll get where you need to go so long as you m o v e.
Ten years from now, you are two trimesters from the completion of not one, but two masters’ degrees. You’ve done a few 180 degree turns in terms of career paths. Things often do not go according to your plan, but according to a Greater Plan. You’ll learn to let go of your precious need to control. Albeit, not perfectly. Albeit, a bit impatiently. But, you will. Where you’re going to go, you would never fathom; however, you’ve found a career you love, a passion and a fire that snuck up on you with you expecting it, and certainly not how you were expecting it.
Right now, you’re afraid that if you choose science, you’ll never write for fun again. Yet, you’re afraid that a program in writing will make you hate the passion in your soul. Do not allow fear to rule your heart. With all of that anxiety, it is easier said than done, I know. Try to listen to your heart’s quiet whispers over the shouts of fear, for it is wiser than you’ll ever give it credit.
Change is coming. You will learn to weather those storms, not always gracefully, but the more you face it, the more you’ll learn how resilient you are. Seasons of friendship that you thought would be books will come to an end. Sometimes, you are going to feel like you won’t make it through. But, you will, darling. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Smarter than you believe. More courageous. You just move in your own gentle, cautious timing. But caution doesn’t negate courage or perseverance. Time will show you, if you listen to your gentle soul.
You are feeling happy, but confused, even endlessly trapped. Trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, that often feels like your enemy. You’ll miss a lot of the rest of this year, a lot of senior year, too. Your body feels like it is spiraling into a nose dive. You’re starting to wonder if you will even be able to handle the rigors of college. Never fear, darling. Never fear. Your body is stronger than you can fathom. Your health is under all this hub-bub, waiting to bubble to the surface. Be gentle with yourself. It won’t be easy, but you’ve done hard before, and you’ll have support. You’ll do things in your own time, but you will make it through.
I promise you’ll learn to love and accept yourself, even your body’s limitations and your anxiety, rather than hate them. They may still frustrate you. But you’ll never feel trapped by them again. You’ll come to understand yourself, understand the lessons that they have given you, even find gratitude for the purposes they serve. You’ll learn to navigate them with more self-compassion.
You are unsure, your confidence stumbles – endlessly sometimes- and it often feels like you are retreating into a shell that was built to keep you hidden. If you remain unseen you won’t be rejected. If you’re never seen, you’ll never be hurt. As you grow, I’m not certain you change as much as give birth to whom you have always been. That’s what has happened to us. The part of you that got buried in childhood has risen to the surface again. You’ll learn to walk more into your truth, embrace who you are, for every raw and imperfect edge as much as every strength.
Oh, you’ll still stumble over confidence. But, you’ll be more aware of yourself – your weaknesses and your strengths. Undergrad will be tumultuous and confusing, but it will preen you for the trials and tribulations of graduate school. Graduate school has a way of bringing your shit to the surface. Make you stare your shadow side in the face, make you glow at your strengths. You’ll come out better for it. It will be one of the most courageous things you have done.
You left Maine. Not quite for the warmer environment you planned, nor the other coast you’d hoped for, but you left it, and spread your wings in that gentle, cautious way of yours. Baby steps still get you in the direct you’re moving. Everyone has their own pace. You don’t have to be dropped into an ocean in order to learn how to swim. You just have to lift your feet off the ground and float above the sand.
It takes time and some navigating, but you have friends who love you as you are. You’ll develop solid friendships, true friendships with individuals who have seen every unpleasant quality and love you as much because of them as in spite of them. Friends you can bear your heart to and they love you enough to hold that heart gently, because you’ve the love and courage to bear it, too. At school, you’ll find a community, so tightly bound, that sometimes you’ll wonder what it will be like to leave them.
Most importantly… Please, please. Trust yourself. Stop trying to be perfect. Stop apologizing for who you are and for taking up space. In fact, take up more.
On a bit less of a serious note: sometime soon, you chop all your hair off. I know, I know. Don’t panic! You love it. (Although, you’ll startle yourself every time you pass a mirror because you forget the reflection is, well, you.) When you find yourself waffling over whether or not to step outside of your comfort zone and rush a sorority – do it. You will have some of your best moments in undergrad because of that decision. See as many musicals as you can get your hands on (I highly recommend RENT and The Lion King). The theater brings your soul alive. Also… we have chickens. Ten of them. You can stop manifesting stray ones into our backyard now. Your own little flock is on its way soon! If that isn’t something for you to look forward to, I don’t know what is.
Lots of Love & Courage,
Your 2020 Self
xoxo
