Letter to a Little Me

Ten was a good year. I spent my lunches playing pickle on the big kid field with Nick and Holly. The Big Stick popsicle or Fudgesicle were a quarter at the After School Program. I was getting ready to graduate elementary school.

Thirty-one. 31. It’s not old. It’s not young. It’s not even really the middle. It’s adulthood.

That excitement you have when you pick up a new book? Remember that love of education. There is always something new to learn. And life is a Choose Your Own Adventure book. (Us 31-year-olds know and remember those fondly.)

Some years will be better than others. Middle school? Yeah. Don’t get to excited about that – you’ll think it sucks then and decades later you’ll look back and think, “Yup. That really sucked.” By high school you’ll realize that you don’t need to blend in. Go ahead. Audition. Be different. Be random.

Ultimately, you’ll realize with amazement that every little decision you make is guiding you toward where your life will go.

Do you want to take French or Spanish? Or do you think perhaps you should embrace your ability to read music and take up an instrument in band? (Goodness knows you will never join choir.) You’ll be unique; you’ll take French in an effort to get ahead.

Believe in what you choose. But know that there will be bumps along the way. There will be rejection and defeat. There will be struggles – internal and other – that feel as though they could be the end of the world. At the time, they may be to you. But really, it’s all part of growing up.

Make your decisions wisely and make sure you decide for you. High school will pass by in the blink of an eye. College will be over far too soon. You’ll make some bad decisions there – but let’s just attribute that to growing pains.

Your twenties will be spent in pursuit of the corporate dream. More degrees, more prestige; titles and training. Playing the corporate game of chutes and ladders. Keep writing. You’ve always been told to “dress for the position you want.” Well, just dress well, since the position you want really involves a ponytail and sweats as you type away on a computer.

That second decade isn’t going to end well. Infertility, hospital stays. Stress and struggles combatted with stubbornness. But the third will start with the most amazing men you’ll ever meet.

Here’s to adulthood. And here’s to the adventures yet to be chosen.

“Life is like a movie. Write your own ending.” – The Muppets