The Goddess Blogs pointed out this book today. Cool idea! Consider it stolen. This is a letter to 16-year-old me.

16-year-old me, the picture of youth and grace (well, youth anyway)

Dear Me,

“You are sixteen, going on seventeen– innocent as a rose.” I know you don’t think you are. You think you are independent and worldly and made of kick-ass because you are hot and have great hair. You are those things, but you are also innocent. Hold on to that innocence for a while. It’s not a bad thing.

I am proud of you for your attitude right now. You know you have the good life– awesome friends, independence, a family who loves and supports you… a cool ride. Well, ok. A ride anyway, for a station wagon is infinitely better than no car at all. Enjoy this moment like I know you will.

I hate to say it, but not all your years will be as good as these you’re in now. You’ll have to go through some hard, crappy stuff that I wish I could spare you from, but those things are probably necessary to make you the person you’ll eventually be. (And you’re eventually a pretty cool dudette, if I do say so myself.)

Build a community (not just one boyfriend your world revolves around– that is not a community, no matter how hot he is). Actively seek out friends. I know it’s hard, and it’s going to take a loooong time to get good at it, but starting now will save your future self a lot of struggle.

At the same time, choose your community wisely. Find people who are encouraging and who support you. I know you want to encourage and support them, and that’s great– don’t stop. But you have a tendency to give up everything for the people you love. You are not Mother Teresa. You also need love in return. (And you deserve it!) Make friends with the people who will give it to you.

When you start to think about God and religion, go slowly. You don’t have to work it all out in a month or a year or a lifetime. Listen to your heart, be true to yourself and your sense of the way the world works (or should work), but know that the things you learned as a child still have value. Except maybe that thing about Grandma’s cousin or whoever being possessed by the devil. That was probably crap.

Finally– and here is my biggest, most important piece of advice– don’t wait to start doing the things you really want to do. It all seems impossible until you start working on it. It’s not impossible. Get started! Make your life story a good one to tell.

I’ll see you when you get here. (Whoa. Brain asplode.)

Love,
Me

P.S. I know you’re kind of broke right after college, but if you could scrape together some money to buy Google stock when it goes public, I would be forever in your debt. But not literally. Baha. I kill me. Oh, but that’s not literally, either.

P.P.S. I’m sorry for singing a song to open this letter. Unfortunately, your incurable nerdiness remains incurable.