You're doing great.
Before I say anything else to you, before you get any further... know that. You are doing great. I know it doesn't feel like that at all right now. You feel like you're barely surviving and things just seem to be going from bad to worse. You feel alone and frightened and confused. I know. You're me, almost sixteen years ago. I wish I could tell you that things aren't as bad as they seem and that you'll look back on them and see that they weren't as hard in hindsight. But I'm not going to bullshit you.
Your sixteenth year is not your easiest, and not just for the usual reasons. Adolescence is hard enough in a healthy, normal house. Adolescence for you is insane. And you are getting through each day marvelously. You are true to yourself and your feelings. You are clinging to whatever stability you can- friends, church, music- and that is fine. All of that is fine. You'll change your mind on a lot of things in the future, but for right now, you keep doing what you have to do to keep your head above water.
It's really intimidating, writing to you. I want you to like me. I want you to be proud of me. I value your opinion, quite a bit more than I thought I would, actually. You are a real badass. I mean it. You have this soft heart and this rebellious nature, and all of that is just bubbling up inside of you. You're so much bigger than your awkward little body. You're starting to question everything you've ever held to be true, including religion, even though it's such a large part of your world. Question it all, darling. The things that stick with you, the things that hold up through the questioning and the searching, those are the big things. You'll change your mind a lot in the upcoming years. It won't always be an easy thing, either. You will make some really bad decisions. Like, REALLY bad. You'll have your foot in your mouth so often that you start to enjoy the taste. It's okay. It's how we learn.
"Change is always good. It's not always easy, but it's always good." That's some of the best advice you'll ever get. You'll hear it from from our friend, Bryan, when you're 26. But I think you could definitely use it now. Speaking of advice, that is NOT the reason I wrote you this letter. While I do have some advice for you, I don't want to change the path that you're on. Not too much. You're going to hate me for not warning you about a lot of shit, but you're going to need to go through it. I'm sorry. It's going to make you kinder. It's going to show you how much you can take. It's going to force you to change when you're too scared.
So, you're probably wondering, how am I doing? Am I living the life I saw for myself at sixteen?
First of all, you ARE.
Secondly, I wish you had set your goals a little higher.
At sixteen, you have this very foggy vision of our life. You see us living...SOMEWHERE? Somewhere warmer, definitely. Somewhere with palm trees? Like in "A Prayer for Owen Meany". Maybe somewhere with an ocean. You picture us in a small apartment, in a big city, with a pug. At thirty-one, you would assume that I have a cool job and a really cute boyfriend. He will live in his own place and we will go on awesome vacations. I will not have any children. Neither will he. I will play in a punk band on the weekends. I will have lots of tattoos and pink hair, no matter how old I get. I will read a lot and will probably have written and published a couple of children's books by now. But you're not sure WHAT my career will actually be. At sixteen, getting out of Winchester and supporting yourself seems light years away. Nowhere feels like Home, and you don't know what you'll do or where you'll do it. You just want out. What you don't realize is that at sixteen, living in that trailer, you're learning how to survive. You don't know yet that you will always look back at where you are now to remind yourself what you can make it through.
* side note: I also am very aware that you are willing to re-evaluate your vision of our future if Matt Helfrich ever decides to take a chance and date you because, let's face it, you'd totally change your plans for him. And I know you're not proud of that. Neither am I.
So how do I, almost twice your age, hold up to our teenage vision of the future?
I live in Tempe, Arizona. Look it up. That is a huge city compared to what you're used to. There are palm trees everywhere, and moving here will be one of the best decisions you will ever make. I am going to warn you, it's not Home. Summer's are absolutely awful, and this is not where you will end up forever. I don't know if there is anywhere we will ever find in the world that feels like Home. It's not as sad as it sounds. It's actually kind of liberating. You understand. Of course you do. As it turns out, I DO live in a tiny apartment. It's kind of sweet how realistic you were with how poor we would be, but I'm okay with that. I do have a pug. I named him after a John Irving character. I also have a seven-year old roommate. My daughter. I know, I know... but she's cool. You'll name her after a band, and no, I won't tell you which one. Having a baby is very weird for you, but as she gets older, you will realize how lucky you are to be her mother. You will also hate being called a mother by anyone but her, and you will feel guilty about that, and then (like most things), you will just say fuck it. I can't tell you what happens with her dad or the other men you have in your life romantically. You need to go through all of that. I'm sorry. It's not all bad, and even though relationships don't work out, it's all teaching you what you need. I am so proud of you for picturing us so happy and independent, though. As it turns out, you were right about needing my own space. I have pink hair and a ton of tattoos, but still not enough. I'm sorry to tell you, I slowed down on the writing a LOT. I'm sorry. I dropped the ball on that. I'm telling you this to warn you- Jacob Marley style- please, please, please don't stop writing. It sorts your thoughts, and at sixteen, you are still really good at it. Now? I'm a fucking mess; I'm all over the place. I lost it, and I'm sorry. I also stopped drumming. My bad.
All in all, I'm pretty proud of us.
Good job.
I do wish I could say that you fully recovered from feelings of crippling self doubt. I wish I could tell you that you stop obsessing about the parts of your body that you hate. I wish I could say that you fully get over Matt Helfrich.
I can't.
I can tell you that I am starting to love myself more. This means not starving myself or mentally bashing myself when I fuck up. I do more things that make me happy, and I try to help others as much as I possibly can. I still assume that all of my friends are talking shit behind my back all the time, but I am finding out that everyone else worries about that, too. We all are so insecure. And as for Matt Helfrich? He has not yet professed his undying love to me, but I do talk to him a few times a year, and I still consider him one of my dearest friends. At some point, that becomes enough.
I hope you think I'm cool.
I realize how lame that probably is.
What else?....
Your shitty taste in music never changes.
You will never understand why anyone pays more than $15 for a pair of pants.
You DO stop eating meat!
You DO NOT stop craving Ale 8.
You don't stop biting your nails.
You pose nude for life drawing classes.
You donate a kidney to a stranger.
You will go to a lot of weddings, and even more funerals.
You will wish you learned to cook.
The good news is, we make it out alive.
Stop feeling guilty for things that you wish you'd done differently. Realize sooner that it is okay to try and fail and try and fail over and over again.
Keep trying. Keep failing.
Just please don't lose your spark.
Don't stop being a badass. Don't stop writing. Don't stop questioning.
Just get through it all the best you can, and meet me at thirty-two with some children's book titles and the keys to a beachside house, somewhere that we can call Home. How will you know which thirty-two-year-old woman is me? I think you'll recognize me. And that makes me really happy.
In case you're wondering...
I am not ashamed of you or what you have been through, or what you have done or where you came from.
Sixteen-year-old me, you're doing great.
I wouldn't bullshit you.
I love you.
Sincerely,
Bonanza Jellybean
P.S. Don't worry about paying off those video rental fees. Trust me.
PPS. Hey, hey,hey, hey. Smoke weed every day.
