A letter to my 7-year old self
It’s not all candies and rainbows, I’m sorry.
Hi! Belated happy birthday.
How are you? It’s me — you 14 years later. Yeah, we’re 21 now. Ew, right? Just kidding. But it’s definitely a whole new world. I’m not sure what you’re up to. I guess it’s more or less making a mess of your face over ice cream or drooling on a pillow on someone’s couch. Anyway, I recently read an article that made me think of you. It had all these strange but thought-provoking questions that intend to help you find your purpose and all that crap. (Don’t say that out loud. Mom might be lurking.) One of the questions that left an impression on me was, “What’s true about you today that would make your 8-year-old self cry?”
You’re probably not interested to know since it involves crying. But hear me out. There are more than a hundred things I’ve learned now that I’m older that might make you cry. It’ll be too harsh to bombard you with every detail. I’m writing you this letter not because I want to warn you about what lies ahead or to provide you with lessons you’ll need as you go through life. Besides, you’re too young to understand these big words. I’m just doing so because it’s me now that needs reminding.
At this point in your life, memorizing the schedules of your favorite cartoons may be one of the things you’re most proud of. Now, bet you’d even be more proud to know you write! Well, you at least try. Yeah, not just for school. Started from obsessing over TotalGirl Slambooks to noting to-do lists on sticky notes to scribbling pages-long diary. Funny thing is, you never really thought about writing so seriously. Never considered it a hobby or passion. You just kinda did it. For you, it wasn’t about writing in itself but rather what you had to say.
You’ve always been known as the shy, easily anxious girl. Overhearing your mother say it to other people once or twice. The reason? It’s something I can’t put a finger on since I don’t know you that well anymore. Maybe you had a lot of unexplainable things going on in your head. And I’m guessing that’s the reason why writing things down felt easier for you than saying it out loud.
If you were to ask me, “Are you doing what you love?” I don’t want to make you sad by saying, “Well, I am. But I don’t always love what I do.” But I’m saying just that. The fun part though is we can be anything we want to be. All we have to do is make a conscious decision about who we want to be and show up as that person every single day.
Sounds easy, right? Yeah, not really. First, you’ll be a sad muffin. Not the kind of sad where you hide under the dining table when you cry. Sweetie, it’s really not the most hidden part of the house you expect it to be. Rather, the kind of sad where you’ll say it’s just a sad movie but you’ll learn you can cry through any movie if you’re sad enough. You’ll get exhausted from overthinking, trying to figure out what everything means. You’ll forget you have a choice in difficult situations. You’ll meet lots of people who could care less about play. At one point, you’ll realize you’re just like them.
And if you’re curious about this, I’m sorry. No, you haven’t met “the one.” You haven’t met him at 18. I repeat, no, you haven’t. Instead, you’re going to feel sorry for yourself because you can’t seem to keep anyone around. “Do you feel ready now at 21?” Well, that’s another story to tell. Honestly, you don’t seem giddy to meet him. But that’s OK. You’re loved.
Life will seem complicated most time. But you’ll also learn it’s simple. Though that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s easy. That’s a really annoying answer, I know. You’re going to hear a lot of “Just be yourself,” “Think positive,” and some other lame advice. But trust me, you’re OK. A few roads down the line, it’s going to hurt. But you’re OK. Whoever you think you are, whatever you’re doing, wherever you’re going, you’re OK.
With love,
Ruk
P.S. Please take advantage of nap time.
