Dear Mal,
Ten years ago, you were sitting in front of your television watching a horror movie and typing this up obnoxiously on your laptop.
I hope you have changed. But, I hope you haven’t.
I hope you still have the same optimism that you’ve carried in your heart your whole life. I hope the weight of the world hasn’t dragged you down, and that you find joy in the things that drown you. I hope you still get excited by little things– the smell of coffee, seeing a dog across the street, when cars have those fake eyelashes on them, pretty houses, matching outfits, etc. Excitement is what fuels your optimism and we both know it is the little things that mean the most.
I hope you’re still outgoing; that you haven’t stopped taking adventures and you’re still empowered by your love of people. When you were a teenager, you lived for any small adventure you could take. I hope you’ve taken bigger ones.
In fact, I hope your life is one grand adventure.
I hope you’ve chased your passions until you couldn’t anymore. Then, I hope you found new passions and I hope you’re chasing those. I hope you still love theatre and writing and music.
I hope you got the best education you could, and I hope you still value your intelligence. But I hope you stopped stressing so much. I hope you’ve come to realize that grades and numbers and scores don’t determine your capacity, because that is something you struggled with all of high school.
I hope you still have that same sense of wonder. I hope you’re still fascinated by people and by new places and I hope the light in your life still outshines the dark.
However, I hope some things have changed about you. I hope you don’t struggle with your worth. I hope you’ve come to realize that the number of times you’ve had your heart broken or the friends who have come and gone do not, nor will they ever determine your value as a person.
I hope you’ve overcome your fear of judgment. Not from others, from yourself.
I hope you stop calling yourself naive or annoying or not as good as ______ or too loud. I hope you’re so comfortable with yourself that those kind of thoughts don’t get in your way anymore.
You’re almost thirty by now, so honestly, I hope you’re married. I hope your heart is more full than it has ever been and you smile so big every single night that it is impossible to remember the nights in high school when you stayed up crying recklessly over a boy. I hope you remember all the lessons your heartbreaks, in high school and after high school, taught you.
You say you will all the time, but I hope you never truly gave up on love.
I hope you aren’t a shell of yourself that only remembers heartbreak. Because we both know that before every heartbreak, there were countless smiles and laughs and adventures and memories. But now, I hope you have found someone you are certain will never break your heart. I hope you tell him about your high school lovers and how they broke your heart and I hope you look him in the eye and see no sign that he will do the same.
I hope you tell your kids about your high school heartbreaks, too.
Tell them about the mistakes you made– the time your parents found you in the park when you said you were somewhere else, the lying and sneaking out.
Tell them not to do that.
And tell them about the bad times– the lies, having to hide your relationship, more lies, the fighting and crying and yelling and begging.
But tell them about the good times– skipping homecoming and laying under the stars, watching sunsets at the park, doing facials at your sleepovers, singing songs so loud in the car, the adventures, the firsts, the new experiences, the laughs.
I hope you tell your kids about the dreams you had in high school. They changed a lot, and I know you remember that seventeen-year-old you was stressed out constantly about what she wanted to do in college. I hope you figured that out eventually.
But tell your kids about how in middle school, you wanted to be a big Broadway star. Then, you wanted to be a chemist. Then a writer. An artist. An entrepreneur. Tell them about all of it.
Whatever you decided to do, wherever you ended up, I hope you’re beyond happy.
I hope that you’ve made an impact on someone’s life. I really do. I know you’re such a people person, but more than that, you’re memorable. You like to convince yourself that you’re not, but you are. I hope you use that to truly make a change in other people’s lives.
I hope ten years from now when you read this, you are smiling. You are smiling at the person you were, and you’re making a mental checklist of everything I’ve hoped for you, and you’re laughing. Maybe crying. I hope you still cry a lot. It’s endearing.
Overall, I hope you’ve held on to the good times. Don’t dwell on the past, though. Live in the now. Don’t let go of hope. Whatever hardships you’re going through ten years from now, do not let go of hope. Do not let go of hope. Hope will cause you pain, but it is exciting, and we both know you need excitement. It does not make you naive to have hope. It makes you human. Oh, and call your mother and father every day. And GG and Douglas and Oma. They miss you, and I know you miss them.
Keep in touch with your inner child. Hold on to the magic. Dream big. Try new things. Be kind. Be thankful. Learn something new every day. Laugh. Travel. Adventure. Stay true to yourself. Live for today. Love with your whole heart. Make every moment count.
You got this. Happiness begins with you.
— mal
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