About

Letter to my 21-year old self:

Hello, my darling girl,

You’re about to turn 21 and I’m about to turn 51. So almost 30 years separates us now, but in some ways I feel closer to you than I have since I was back there. Twenty-one is a big turning point, but not so important as you might think right now. You’re still at Austin College. What you must do in this next year is spend as much time with your friends there as you possibly can. Love them and learn about them because they are — and will continue to be — the single most important group of people you’ll have for the next 30 years. Many good things will come from knowing them. They are, without hesitation, some of the very finest people you will ever meet. Enjoy every minute of your time with them next year.

I seem to remember that you’re with Charles right now. Or is it Jason? My lack of memory should show you how insignificant both of them will become over time. I know they can hurt you and honestly, they’re going to continue to for awhile. Love them and learn from them, too, and then let go when your gut tells you it’s enough. It’s all going to be okay.

You’re going to have Dad with you until you’re 50. I won’t tell you what happens, but you’re going to do alright and its nothing to be afraid of. The relationship you have with him is going to become incredibly complicated in the next 15 years and you will discover things about yourself and him you cannot even imagine right now. Good things and not-so-good things. Your brother will come and go as a fixture in your life but he will show up when Mom and Dad start to decline. I’m sharing a time of closeness with him right now that is amazing and he’s grown up in some great ways. Your nephew is the brightest penny we’ve ever seen and you’re going to fall head over heels with this complicated, weird, fantastically funny little boy.

Please enjoy being in theatre right now. Eat it up and don’t question your choice to do that instead of going to medical school. It’s giving you skills you will use professionally for at least 30 years ahead. No, it’s not going to be your profession and you’re going to get let down in the next few years. But hang tight and learn how to act, direct, build the sets, hang the lights, and most of all, hang out with your technical theatre teacher, Andy. He knows everything you need to know about being a project manager and a fine human being. When he tells you to believe in yourself and your abilities, believe him. He’s right. 

You’re going to deal with Alzheimer’s again, baby. It’ll show up in Mama when you’re about 45. It’s a similar ride to what you’re going through right now with Grandmommy. We have that in common at this time in our lives. Everything you’re learning now will come back to you and you and your brother will handle it. I have to be honest and tell you that it’s WAY different with Mom than it was with Grandmommy. Harder. But since it’s not the first rodeo, navigation is a known skill — but just as difficult, exhausting, and heartbreaking for me these days as it is for you 30 years ago. Just know I love you and that I remember where you are in your life. I’m your biggest fan. Carry on.

I’m certain you’re wondering about (1) what I’m doing professionally, and (2) if I’m married or have a partner. You should probably sit down for this...

When you turn 27 you’re going to be called to the service of others in a big way. It presents itself as a feeling that you need to join the clergy, but you’re actually going to go into the counseling program at the seminary instead. You’re going to become a Licensed Professional Counselor and psychotherapist by the time you’re 34. No shit! You’re going to specialize in complex grief and become a highly-skilled trauma specialist. I told you, you needed to sit down. Just know you’re going to go on a fantastic ride with fantastic people and you’re going to do SO MUCH GOOD for others. Take comfort in that. I do.

You’re going to meet two men along the way that really matter and you’re not going to marry either of them. There are lots of boyfriends and dating, even a girlfriend or two, but no one who is going to stick around for a long time. I think this is because you and I made a priority out of enjoying life and living it for ourself. Because we are too observant of others and it scares them or they think it’s magic or something. Because you’re going to have to deal with all the garbage around growing up in a house with our parents (there is so much therapy in your future, girl!). Because we get excited about and invested in new things and want to create and write and sing and play drums and, and, and. I can tell you that I don’t have many regrets.

I love you. I am so proud of you. You have quite a journey ahead. Hang tight, love hard, forgive yourself, and laugh. I’ll write again soon.

Love, 

Me