Week 0, Title: A letter to my fifteen year old self
Posted on 2016.11.10 at 21:50
Dear my fifteen year old self,
I’m thirty now and I thought I’d write a letter to the me I was half of my lifetime ago. Rather predictably, a lot has changed and a lot has stayed the same. The years have taken many of your steel certainties and cast them into doubts. For one, I’m not a teacher. I can hear your horrified gasp from here, you’re wondering what it’s all for, all those efforts, all those perfectly sculpted plans. That solid stalwart dream you’ve had for as long as you can remember. Well, things change. Calm down, it’s fine, I promise. I’m a rota manager at a GP practice, I deal with organising the appointments on the system and the doctors’ schedules, it requires a need for organisational problem solving that I enjoy. All is good.
I expect you want me to tell you what sexual orientation we are. Well, I’ll leave you to figure that out for yourself. Really, the whole ‘I think I like girls but I can’t be gay because I also think I like guys’ thing. The answer is obvious. But you’re allowed to take your time and figure it out. I suppose that’s what being fifteen is for.
Also the whole philosophising, ‘deep’ thing you have going on. I still think that’s cool. But the thing with life is, eventually priorities shift and realisations happen. We may be small in comparison to the universe, but that’s why we matter; that’s why the people we have and the people we affect matter. I’m being condescending, I’m sorry; I’m apparently still the same level of pretentious.
But still, as much as I still admire (and still agree with) the idea of ‘what will be, will be’ with regards to relationships and having kids etc. Things don’t magically happen. Effort is important in your social life just as much as it is in other aspects of life.
Speaking of other aspects: I now like some pop music and there are actors I fangirl over. No, I don’t need an exorcism. I’ve just gained a greater appreciation for the act of creation, of craft, of the time and effort it takes to bring something worthwhile into being. (Don’t worry I still love rock). Oh, while I’m on that: I want to be a writer. I know, I know, you don’t want your hobby to be your job and it’s massively unrealistic. But one: when you actually spend every day working you will realise that your hobby being your job is an awesome idea, and two: you are allowed to dream!
And thus we come to the main reason I’m writing this letter. For the purposes of fun (and reaching my writing end goals) I’m taking part in a writing competition. It’s actually the third time I’ve done this and it would be easy to assume introductions are moot at this point. But then again, we’re ever changing beings and there may come a time we’re a surprise even to ourselves.
Life is for growing (I still haven’t really grown up, I don’t think this matters) and all that stuff, you’ll figure it out on your own. I wouldn’t want you to do things any differently. I don’t think warnings would really do any good. I suppose the main thing I want to say to you, my fifteen year old self, is this:
There are things I’ve struggled with, times I’ve thought I would never get through; the plague of my own demons; people I’ve lost and people I’ve found. But things get better. There are things I still struggle with, things I always will. But life is one day at a time. And it’s all okay. The bad times are bad. But the good times are good. And you may think you’re incapable of bearing the weight (I sometimes still do) but you can. And believe me, it’s worth it. Carry on.
- Much narcissistic love from your thirty year old self.
PS: Oh and when writing dialogue- put the comma before the speech mark.
I’m thirty now and I thought I’d write a letter to the me I was half of my lifetime ago. Rather predictably, a lot has changed and a lot has stayed the same. The years have taken many of your steel certainties and cast them into doubts. For one, I’m not a teacher. I can hear your horrified gasp from here, you’re wondering what it’s all for, all those efforts, all those perfectly sculpted plans. That solid stalwart dream you’ve had for as long as you can remember. Well, things change. Calm down, it’s fine, I promise. I’m a rota manager at a GP practice, I deal with organising the appointments on the system and the doctors’ schedules, it requires a need for organisational problem solving that I enjoy. All is good.
I expect you want me to tell you what sexual orientation we are. Well, I’ll leave you to figure that out for yourself. Really, the whole ‘I think I like girls but I can’t be gay because I also think I like guys’ thing. The answer is obvious. But you’re allowed to take your time and figure it out. I suppose that’s what being fifteen is for.
Also the whole philosophising, ‘deep’ thing you have going on. I still think that’s cool. But the thing with life is, eventually priorities shift and realisations happen. We may be small in comparison to the universe, but that’s why we matter; that’s why the people we have and the people we affect matter. I’m being condescending, I’m sorry; I’m apparently still the same level of pretentious.
But still, as much as I still admire (and still agree with) the idea of ‘what will be, will be’ with regards to relationships and having kids etc. Things don’t magically happen. Effort is important in your social life just as much as it is in other aspects of life.
Speaking of other aspects: I now like some pop music and there are actors I fangirl over. No, I don’t need an exorcism. I’ve just gained a greater appreciation for the act of creation, of craft, of the time and effort it takes to bring something worthwhile into being. (Don’t worry I still love rock). Oh, while I’m on that: I want to be a writer. I know, I know, you don’t want your hobby to be your job and it’s massively unrealistic. But one: when you actually spend every day working you will realise that your hobby being your job is an awesome idea, and two: you are allowed to dream!
And thus we come to the main reason I’m writing this letter. For the purposes of fun (and reaching my writing end goals) I’m taking part in a writing competition. It’s actually the third time I’ve done this and it would be easy to assume introductions are moot at this point. But then again, we’re ever changing beings and there may come a time we’re a surprise even to ourselves.
Life is for growing (I still haven’t really grown up, I don’t think this matters) and all that stuff, you’ll figure it out on your own. I wouldn’t want you to do things any differently. I don’t think warnings would really do any good. I suppose the main thing I want to say to you, my fifteen year old self, is this:
There are things I’ve struggled with, times I’ve thought I would never get through; the plague of my own demons; people I’ve lost and people I’ve found. But things get better. There are things I still struggle with, things I always will. But life is one day at a time. And it’s all okay. The bad times are bad. But the good times are good. And you may think you’re incapable of bearing the weight (I sometimes still do) but you can. And believe me, it’s worth it. Carry on.
- Much narcissistic love from your thirty year old self.
PS: Oh and when writing dialogue- put the comma before the speech mark.
