Drink all the Daiquiris
Today is the 20th anniversary of my 21st birthday. I remember that night so vividly (okay so I remember the first part of that night so vividly). Wow if I knew then what I know now, I would've handled my 20's so differently. If I could write a letter to myself, I'd have the best advice...
Dear 21-year-old me:
Happy birthday! You're about to drink an obscene amount of strawberry daiquiris tonight at Crockett's. Do it! You're only young once, and your life is going to take some unexpected turns more quickly than you expect. Drink the daiquiris.
Let yourself live a little. You're heading into your senior year of college, and you've been so serious. You've gone to the gym five days a week at 6 am. You've worked multiple jobs. You feel guilty about having fun. STOP THE MADNESS. You'll be working out and working hard for the rest of your life. You have great grades, and you've earned them. You'll get into law school, you'll have an excellent career, and it will all be okay. Stop trying so hard and enjoy it.
YOU ARE NOT FAT. You'll never believe me on this one, and two decades later when you're twenty pounds heavier you won't listen to yourself then either. But you look amazing. That booty you're trying to get rid of? Stop it. Dudes dig it. Embrace it. Sure you should continue to work out and be healthy, but stop starving yourself. In the next twenty years your body will go through an extraordinary journey. You'll learn there is definitely such a thing as too skinny. Enjoy your curves, and enjoy those six pack abs. They're fleeting.
This is your last year of relative health. You don't know yet that you have Crohn's Disease. In less than a year you'll have your entire colon removed, and it's going to get real. Remember how your stomach looks without scars. Wear a bikini with pride, and wear it with pride even once you've earned the scars. You will never believe this easily, but you are beautiful.
Give yourself a break when it comes to love. That guy you're with now? The one you've been with for the last four years? The one who put a ring on it and you think is your forever guy? He isn't. Not even close. Deep down you know it now. The red flags are frequent and many. But when you finally realize you have to leave it's going to gut you. You're going to question everything about yourself, and it's going to take a while. Be patient. Because when you're my age you'll look back and realize you were too young, too rash and not ready for forever together. And it's okay. You'll be harshly criticized because you didn't stay, but let it roll off your shoulders. You know what's best for you. It's not him. You'll forgive him, and you'll forgive yourself.
Your friendships will change and evolve. At 41 you will have the most amazing group of friends. You celebrated your 40th birthday last year in Napa with 12 awesome friends, only two of whom you know now. You'll meet people who you think you'll be friends with forever, but you'll grow apart. Don't beat yourself up. This is how friendships work. They can be fluid, and some friends don't last forever. They're your friend when you need it, and you can move past it and appreciate them for the friend they were. You'll enjoy pictures of their kids on Facebook (social media is something you can't even imagine. Be glad it's not around tonight for the daiquiris.)
Your life at 41 is unrecognizable. You haven't yet been to Michigan, but by 41 you will have represented all of its cities and been to the far reaches of the state. You think you'll have lots of kids with what we know is the wrong guy. Instead you'll adopt one son with your great love, and it'll be enough. It'll be perfect. That little boy will wrap you around his finger and you will move mountains for him. He's everything. Your husband is hilarious and witty, and he's the guy you'll want beside you when things go haywire. Because they do, often, and he's calm and steady. He gets you.
You lost Dad almost four years ago, and grief will sneak up on you at times and punch you in the face. But you keep him close, and you talk about him to your son often. There's nobody like him, and you'll spend a lot of time traveling with him and Mom in the years before he dies. Those trips and memories are your most precious.
Drink the rum. Dance like nobody and everybody is watching. Enjoy these next few years in Morgantown, the city that will always have your heart. You already know the formula to be your best self. Trust your instincts. We've got this.
Love,
you/me
Dear 21-year-old me:
Happy birthday! You're about to drink an obscene amount of strawberry daiquiris tonight at Crockett's. Do it! You're only young once, and your life is going to take some unexpected turns more quickly than you expect. Drink the daiquiris.
Let yourself live a little. You're heading into your senior year of college, and you've been so serious. You've gone to the gym five days a week at 6 am. You've worked multiple jobs. You feel guilty about having fun. STOP THE MADNESS. You'll be working out and working hard for the rest of your life. You have great grades, and you've earned them. You'll get into law school, you'll have an excellent career, and it will all be okay. Stop trying so hard and enjoy it.
YOU ARE NOT FAT. You'll never believe me on this one, and two decades later when you're twenty pounds heavier you won't listen to yourself then either. But you look amazing. That booty you're trying to get rid of? Stop it. Dudes dig it. Embrace it. Sure you should continue to work out and be healthy, but stop starving yourself. In the next twenty years your body will go through an extraordinary journey. You'll learn there is definitely such a thing as too skinny. Enjoy your curves, and enjoy those six pack abs. They're fleeting.
This is your last year of relative health. You don't know yet that you have Crohn's Disease. In less than a year you'll have your entire colon removed, and it's going to get real. Remember how your stomach looks without scars. Wear a bikini with pride, and wear it with pride even once you've earned the scars. You will never believe this easily, but you are beautiful.
Give yourself a break when it comes to love. That guy you're with now? The one you've been with for the last four years? The one who put a ring on it and you think is your forever guy? He isn't. Not even close. Deep down you know it now. The red flags are frequent and many. But when you finally realize you have to leave it's going to gut you. You're going to question everything about yourself, and it's going to take a while. Be patient. Because when you're my age you'll look back and realize you were too young, too rash and not ready for forever together. And it's okay. You'll be harshly criticized because you didn't stay, but let it roll off your shoulders. You know what's best for you. It's not him. You'll forgive him, and you'll forgive yourself.
Your friendships will change and evolve. At 41 you will have the most amazing group of friends. You celebrated your 40th birthday last year in Napa with 12 awesome friends, only two of whom you know now. You'll meet people who you think you'll be friends with forever, but you'll grow apart. Don't beat yourself up. This is how friendships work. They can be fluid, and some friends don't last forever. They're your friend when you need it, and you can move past it and appreciate them for the friend they were. You'll enjoy pictures of their kids on Facebook (social media is something you can't even imagine. Be glad it's not around tonight for the daiquiris.)
Your life at 41 is unrecognizable. You haven't yet been to Michigan, but by 41 you will have represented all of its cities and been to the far reaches of the state. You think you'll have lots of kids with what we know is the wrong guy. Instead you'll adopt one son with your great love, and it'll be enough. It'll be perfect. That little boy will wrap you around his finger and you will move mountains for him. He's everything. Your husband is hilarious and witty, and he's the guy you'll want beside you when things go haywire. Because they do, often, and he's calm and steady. He gets you.
You lost Dad almost four years ago, and grief will sneak up on you at times and punch you in the face. But you keep him close, and you talk about him to your son often. There's nobody like him, and you'll spend a lot of time traveling with him and Mom in the years before he dies. Those trips and memories are your most precious.
Drink the rum. Dance like nobody and everybody is watching. Enjoy these next few years in Morgantown, the city that will always have your heart. You already know the formula to be your best self. Trust your instincts. We've got this.
Love,
you/me
This is so wonderful - my 21 year old self could have used this, too! You're great, I love you 😍
ReplyDelete