Monday, July 14, 2008

If I Could Write A Letter To Me

and send it back in time to myself at 17.

So beings a recent country hit by Brad Paisley. In the song, Mr. Paisley writes a letter to his younger self, giving his 17 year old self advice on such topics such as teenage breakups, avoiding traffic tickets, dates, passing Algebra, and the like.

It got me thinking, what advice would I give myself if I could go back in time? I wouldn't write to my 17 year old self for one thing. Frankly, there are just more important decisions to be made than whether you are going to the bonfire rally or not. Instead, I chose to write to my 18 year old self. More specifically, I wrote to the self who was leaving home and going off to college, and on my own for the first time. Here is what I had to say to myself:

Dear 18 year old self,

This is both an exciting and scary time in you life--this passing from childhood in to the world of adults. Enjoy every minute of it. Savor it. Treasure it. Before you know it, you will be looking back over your life wondering where the time went. I hope these words of advice I'm about to give you will make things just a little easier for you.

The first thing I want to say, and this is without a doubt the most important think anyone will ever say to you, is that your childhood was not normal. No, it wasn't and it was not OK. What happened to you was not "just the way things were done back then." In a few weeks you will meet someone named Glynn. Yes, he is arrogant and obnoxious, but when he suggests you get counseling, listen to him. Somewhere inside you is a beautiful, vibrant woman crying to be set free. Don't be too proud to admit that you need help doing that. Get counseling. Now. If you wait another 10 or 15 years, she will be gone forever and you will never know who you were meant to be.

Secondly, don't listen to your Daddy. Yeah, I know. I never though I'd say that to a teenage girl, but just this once, don't listen to him. If photography is what you love, then major in it. Maybe you will have to derive the bulk of your income from studio portraiture, but even that beats the heck out of what you do for a living now.

When it comes time for you to declare a major, go ahead and transfer to that other university. In ten years time, those friends--you know, the ones you couldn't bear to leave--they will all be gone and you will be stuck barely scraping out a living in a miserable job that you despise.

Oh, and while we are on the subject of friends, don't be so mean to Patti all the time. Twenty years down the road, she will be the only one who has stuck by you. That's right. When you become me, Patti will be the only one who will still be there for you. All the rest, they won't even send you Christmas cards any more.

Finally, if you ignore everything else I've said so far, do not ignore this. When you are leaving to drive home after that long weekend at the beach, and that still, small voice whispers into your heart to hug your dad, hug your dad. Yeah, I know you are not a huggy family and it may feel awkward, but hug your dad. No, he won't think you are crazy, and even if he does, hug your dad. No, don't tell me you will do it next time, hug your dad now.

There won't be a next time.

9 comments:

Bag Blog said...

That may be one of your best posts ever. You let us see into a part of you that you keep rather secret. It was very sincere, and the things you learned will not change the way things were, but they will come in handy when Cody gets to be 17.

Inquiries said...

I agree with Lou.

Buck said...

Me, too... agree with Lou. (That rhymes rather well, doesn't it? ;-))

Sus said...

Wow. Very moving. Thank you for sharing these parts of you.

Becky G said...

Thanks, y'all. This wasn't easy for me to write, and even more difficult to share, but I felt like I needed to. Thank you for being so understanding.

Slop -n- Goulash: Dinner of Champions! said...

Becky, great post! I wish I'd thought of it first! LOL Seriously, after reading your posts, I think I'm glad you couldn't really write yourself a letter because I like the person you are today - the one who didn't receive your adult self advice when she was 18! Bravo!

Knit and fall back in it said...

Great post. I can think of a lot of things I would tell the younger me. But knowing me like I do, I am afraid that I wouldn't have listened to even me. I'm one of those that has to learn things for myself...usually the hard way.

mornin'lady said...

This was good Bec, real good! Thanks for sharing, and for what it's worth as much as I do know you, there's a lot of wisdom there!

Becky G said...

MAM, just because you didn't think of it first doesn't mean you can't do it as well! Thank you for liking me just as I am, but I still wish I would have hugged my dad that day. He died 10 days later and I never got the chance to make that right. That is why I posted that letter on that day. Monday was the 13th anniversary of his death, and it always weighs heavy on me around that time.

Dawn, thank you.

Amy, thanks. Me too, at least I was back then. You couldn't tell me anything!