Finding Freedom, Day 35: Dear 16-year-old Me

The question for today came from a dear friend and former coworker: Knowing what you know of life now, what would you tell your 16-year-old self? Here is a letter to my 16-year-old self:

Dear Michele,

The limits of your imagination prevent you from remotely comprehending what lies ahead for you. In fact parts of your life are so big, they would blow your mind. But without giving away too much, I want to try to prepare you for your journey.

First of all, keep all of your journals. Make sure you pack away all of the stories you have been writing with Diane. You might be afraid of your words or of others reading your words because then they will know how you really feel but you are going to find your voice in your 30s and you won't be embarrassed any more.

Second, believe it or not, there will come a time when you will no longer be afraid to talk to people you don't know. Not only will you be able to order your own pizza but in 20 years, you will sing in front of 60,000 people. Stop freaking out. You'll be fine.

Speaking of singing, don't quit choir. Sister Bea is going to hunt you down in every nook and cranny of that school. She might even show up at your house. It's not worth trying to escape. KEEP SINGING.

Third, you are about to jump from group of friends to group of friends and that's ok as long as you stay friends with each of the previous groups. Your job in life will be to connect people, to build bridges where bridges have been burned and to lead others down a path of understanding. Stop messing things up.

Fourth, please for the love of all things holy, LET A BOY KISS YOU. Your fear of the opposite sex is not only ridiculous but it will last until you are in your 20s if you don't just get that kiss out of the way. (But don't get carried away... save that for your wild and crazy 30s.)

Fifth, all of your concerns about life and relationships and your weight and your toes are valid. Feelings cannot be called wrong. But I want you to know that right now, you are as close to perfect as you will ever be. If you can't love who you are right now, at least appreciate it. Know that one day you will wish you had those legs, you will long for your innocence and you will get a lot of compliments on your smile.

Finally, a wise woman once told me that "everything is preparation for something." Just remember that the next time Mr. Wells yells at you or you get into an argument with a classmate or you get grounded from your car. It's all true.

I love you more than you can possibly believe in this moment. I really do.

44-year-old Michele