Dear 10-Year-Old Me

 

Dear 10-Year-Old Me,

First things first: congratulations.

You did it.

Not only did you win the Woodland Elementary School Four Square Championship in third grade, but you successfully defended your title in fourth grade and are now the undisputed back-to-back champion of 1994 and 1995.

I know exactly how proud you are right now.

Thirty years from now, almost nobody will care about a fourth-grade Four Square championship. Most people reading this letter will probably laugh that I'm even bringing it up.

But here's the thing:

I still care.

Not because the title itself means anything in the grand scheme of life, but because of what it meant to you. It was something you worked for. It was something you earned. For a brief moment in time, you were the best at something in your little corner of the world, and nobody could take that away from you.

As you get older, you'll discover that life is full of accomplishments that matter only to you. They won't make headlines. Most people won't remember them. But that doesn't make them meaningless.

Sometimes the moments that shape us the most are the ones nobody else understands.

So enjoy this one.

You've earned it.

Just don't let it go to your head. Fifth grade is coming.

Actually, while we're handing out congratulations, there's one more accomplishment that deserves recognition.

All those rehearsals for The Nutcracker mattered.

Every lyric.

Every harmony.

Every song.

You memorized all of it.

That wasn't easy.

You should be proud of that too.

In fact, you're about to discover something about yourself that you're not quite ready to admit yet.

You actually enjoy singing.

A lot more than you're willing to tell anyone.

You're going to keep that fact hidden away for a very long time.

Very, very close to the chest.

But it's there.

And someday you'll realize that some of the things we love most about ourselves are the things we're initially the most afraid to share with the world.

Now that we've gotten the important business out of the way, there are a few things I want you to know.

First, start preserving your memories.

Keep a journal.

Nothing fancy.

You don't need to write every day.

You don't need to write pages and pages.

Just write things down.

Record dates.

Record events.

Record people.

Record the things that make you laugh, the things that make you angry, and the things that make you excited.

When something feels important, write it down.

When something feels ordinary, write it down anyway.

Trust me, thirty years from now you'll find yourself wondering exactly when certain things happened.

Those little journal entries that seem completely mundane today would become absolute gold.

Get yourself a camera, too.

A reliable one.

And use it.

Take pictures of everything.

Take pictures of your family.

Take pictures of your friends.

Take pictures with your friends.

Take pictures of your school.

Take pictures of your neighborhood.

Take pictures of places you visit.

Take pictures of the ordinary days.

Don't wait for special occasions.

The funny thing about memories is that you never know which ordinary day will become important thirty years later.

One day you'll create photo albums that tell the story of your life, and you'll wish you had even more pieces of that story preserved.

Take the picture.

Always take the picture.

And while we're talking about preserving memories, buy your yearbooks.

Every single one of them.

Middle school.

High school.

All of them.

You'll think they're expensive.

You'll think you'll remember everyone anyway.

You won't.

Faces fade.

Names fade.

Memories blur together.

Those yearbooks become time machines.

Trust me.

Buy the yearbooks.

There are also a few things about yourself that I want you to understand sooner than I did.

You're shy.

Not because you're unfriendly.

Not because you're angry.

Not because you're trying to avoid people.

I mean, sometimes you're definitely going to avoid people who you know will dirsupt your peace.

You're simply more comfortable listening than talking until you get to know someone.

Unfortunately, some people are going to misunderstand that.

They'll think you're upset.

They'll think you're standoffish.

They'll think you don't like them.

They're wrong.

You're not doing anything wrong.

You're just wired differently.

Don't spend years trying to become somebody else because you think that's what people want.

Be exactly who you are.

The right people will appreciate you for exactly who you are.

Some of those people you'll meet in fifth grade.

Some you won't meet until adulthood.

Some will still be in your life thirty years from now.

The people worth keeping around won't require you to become somebody else first.

And while we're talking about people, stop worrying so much about fitting in.

You don't need to fit in everywhere.

You only need to find the places where you belong.

There's a difference.

Another lesson that will save you a lot of frustration:

Don't concern yourself with the opinions of people whose advice you wouldn't seek in the first place.

Listen to people who genuinely care about you.

Listen to people who want to help you grow.

Ignore the rest.

Especially the people who start a sentence with, "No offense, but..."

The people who proudly describe themselves as brutally honest are usually much more interested in the brutal part than the honest part.

You don't owe those people space in your head.

There are also a few things I need to be completely serious about.

You're going to start developing an unhealthy relationship with food.

Not overnight.

Not all at once.

It's going to happen gradually.

The problem isn't that you'll enjoy junk food.

The problem is that you'll allow it to become too large a part of your life for too long.

So here's what I want you to do:

Eat the pizza.

Eat the ice cream.

Eat the birthday cake.

Just don't let those things become the foundation of your diet.

Eat more fruits.

Eat more vegetables.

Stay active.

Learn that moderation isn't the same thing as deprivation.

You don't have to eliminate the foods you love.

You just have to stop letting them dominate every decision.

And the moment you're eligible, sign up for floor hockey at the rec center.

Don't wait.

You're going to discover that you absolutely love it.

You're going to make friends.

You're going to create memories.

You're going to have a blast.

But for reasons I still can't explain, you're going to wait until you're thirteen before signing up.

Don't do that.

You're about to enter fifth grade.

You have the opportunity to get those two years back.

Take it.

One day you'll find your way back to the sport after many years away, and you'll wish you had started earlier and stayed with it longer.

Now for the part you're probably going to hate hearing.

Take care of your teeth.

Seriously.

I know.

You've heard it from parents.

You've heard it from dentists.

You've heard it from teachers.

And now you're hearing it from yourself thirty years in the future.

Brush twice a day.

Floss twice a day.

Every day.

No exceptions.

The reason every adult keeps repeating it is because they're right.

I can tell you exactly where this road leads if you don't listen.

Extractions.

Root canals.

Crowns.

Future You would very much appreciate avoiding as many of those as possible.

And while we're discussing dental matters, if somebody offers you the opportunity to deal with your wisdom teeth before they become a problem...

Do it.

Don't argue.

Don't procrastinate.

Just do it.

Some lessons in life are complicated.

This isn't one of them.

Take care of your body.

Take care of your teeth.

Future You will thank you every single day.

Now let's talk about something that will never really be a struggle for you.

Drugs and alcohol.

You're never going to be interested.

The opportunities will be there.

Nobody is going to force anything on you.

You'll simply never have any real desire to participate.

And from where I'm sitting thirty years later, I can tell you that you're missing absolutely nothing.

No one has ever told me a story about something they did while drunk that made me wish I had followed the same path.

Not once.

However, there is something important you need to understand.

Alcohol and drugs can change people.

Sometimes people you love.

Sometimes people you admire.

Sometimes people you never thought would change.

You're going to see that firsthand.

And it's going to hurt.

You'll learn that good people sometimes make bad decisions.

You'll learn that not every problem gets fixed.

Most importantly, you'll learn a lesson that applies to almost everything:

Life isn't fair.

Some people get opportunities others never receive.

Some people face battles others never have to fight.

Some people get outcomes they don't deserve.

Understand that now.

Not so you become bitter.

Not so you become cynical.

But so you learn gratitude.

Gratitude for the people who stay.

Gratitude for the memories you make.

Gratitude for the opportunities you're given.

And gratitude for the life you're living while you're still living it.

Speaking of people...

There are a few I need to tell you about.

Your oldest Uncle has passed away.

So has Grandpa.

I know that's difficult to hear.

But the good news is that Grammy is still here.

You still have time.

I won't tell you how much.

That's not the point.

The point is that you should treat every visit as if it could be the last one.

Go see her.

Sit with her.

Ask questions.

Ask what life was like when she was your age.

Ask about her family.

Ask about her parents.

Ask about recipes.

Ask about holidays.

Ask about memories.

Ask about everything.

One day those stories become treasures.

One day you'll wish you could ask just one more question.

Don't wait until then.

And there are a few things I can tell you now that will always remind you of her.

Christmas Eve.

Junior Mints.

And Chanel No. 5.

Trust me on that.

Now let's talk about your friends.

Some of your best friends are already in your life.

You have absolutely no idea how important they're going to become.

Many years from now, some of those same people will still be standing beside you.

Life will take all of you in different directions.

Different schools.

Different jobs.

Different chapters.

And somehow you'll still find your way back to each other.

Those friendships are worth protecting.

They're worth the effort.

At the same time, there are people you haven't met yet who will become some of your closest friends.

Some of them will arrive soon.

Others won't show up until much later.

And then there are people who are only meant to be part of certain seasons of your life.

That doesn't mean those friendships failed.

It doesn't mean anybody did anything wrong.

Sometimes people simply grow in different directions.

Sometimes the chapter ends.

And that's okay.

What's really going to surprise you is that years from now you'll reconnect with people you went to school with, and some of those friendships will become stronger than you ever imagined.

If I told you who those people were right now, you wouldn't believe me anyway.

Besides, you haven't even met some of them yet.

Even at forty years old, some of those friendships still don't feel entirely real to me either.

There is also someone you're going to meet during your freshman year of high school.

Eventually, you'll get to know their entire family.

From that point forward, they will become an important part of your life.

An incredibly important part.

As much as I would like to change one major part of that story, it isn't my place to do so.

Some experiences belong to the people living them, not the person looking back.

So instead I'll simply tell you this:

Keep the journal.

Take the pictures.

Foster the relationships.

Appreciate the moments while they're happening.

Remember that life isn't fair.

One day you'll understand why I'm telling you this.

And when that day comes, everything else in this letter will make a little more sense.

There are also some things coming that will change the world.

You will witness events that generations before you could never have imagined.

You will see moments that unite people.

You will see moments that divide them.

You will watch technology transform the world beyond anything you can currently comprehend.

You will live through historic events that people will be studying long after you're gone.

I could tell you what they are.

But I won't.

Part of the journey is experiencing them for yourself.

Some of those events will shape you.

Some will challenge you.

All of them will become part of the story that eventually leads you here.

And finally, I want you to understand something that took me a long time to learn.

You don't need to become someone else to have a meaningful life.

You don't need to be the loudest person.

You don't need to be the most popular person.

You don't need to impress everyone.

You don't need a perfect life.

You just need to keep growing.

Keep learning.

Keep loving the people around you.

Keep making memories.

Keep taking pictures.

Keep writing things down.

Keep showing up.

Thirty years from now you'll still have dreams.

You'll still have questions.

You'll still be working on yourself.

And that's okay.

Because the goal was never perfection.

The goal was growth.

And for the record, after all these years, you're still the two-time defending Woodland Elementary School Four Square Champion.

Nobody has taken the title away from you yet.

Sincerely,

You, thirty years later