Experiment 1: Open Letters to my Younger Self
As a society, I believe we need to condition girls to believe in themselves from a young age. The mainstream media is highly critical of female celebrities in all aspects of their lives: relationships, wardrobe choices, parenting styles, and the list is endless. This critical narrative is detrimental to societal progression. I hope that by shedding light into my past and offering myself some advice on the common struggles school-aged girls face, I can serve as a mentor. Whether that be for a high schooler anxious about leaving for college or an elementary schooler who longs to be anybody but herself, I hope my work will appeal to a wide range of audiences and tune out some of the negativity circulating in the media. Ultimately, I hope to appeal to emotion. I know the rollercoaster of emotions that come with maturity, and my best advice to my younger self would be to acknowledge and accept these emotions.
For this experiment, I will write open letters to my former self from the perspective of my now older and wiser self. I’ll give myself the advice I wish I would’ve received. With the recent inauguration of Vice President Kamala Harris – the first female Vice President of the United States – I feel a sense of urgency to reflect on my past. Vice President Harris’s success did not come without obstacles, and I admire her because of her strength and determination. The key to success is being able to overcome obstacles, so I want to empower other women to do just that. I believe that the best way to empower is to inspire, and by writing to my younger self, I hope to impact younger girls.
Though I originally intended to create an advice column – modeled after the Dear Abby segment in newspapers across the country– I felt as though it was too antiquated. After some genre research, I came to realize that uplifting women in all aspects of their life would take more than a letter from an anonymous blogger named Abby. I need some credibility in the eyes of my audience, and that’s why I am choosing to share a letter drawn on my background and experiences. In opening my letter for a broader audience, I will offer room for interpretation. Each person’s lived experiences look a little different, so the nature of my letter allows for my audience to take what they’d like from my experiences and apply it to their own. So, in writing an open letter, I’m not explicitly speaking to anybody but myself; instead, I’m providing my audience with this advice as a resource should they choose to accept it.
Introduction
Sketch
Should this experiment become a fully realized project, I’ll write a series of open letters to my former self in three different stages of life: elementary, middle, and high school. Having now experienced more of life and gained a greater understanding of the world, I’ll offer advice that I wish I would have received. Each scenario will describe common narratives that stand out to me from each of the designated time periods.
First, I’ll write a letter to my elementary self from the perspective of my current self. In this one, I want to address the different emotions that I, along with many others, felt in elementary school: jealousy, embarrassment, and frustration. Speaking to this little girl, I’ll use the phrase “for the part of you that is . . .” and begin each paragraph by addressing a different emotion. Put simply, I’m going to be my own mentor. I vividly remember looking up to the high schoolers who used to visit us during recess each week. Knowing how much I looked up to them, I’ll put myself in their shoes and tell my former self how to deal with all of the emotions I felt as a timid elementary schooler.
Next, I’ll write to my former middle school self. Middle school is a time when it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. It’s a time where it’s cool to fit in and not partake in unique pastimes. My middle school had nearly three-thousand students, and now at a university of almost 40 thousand undergraduate students, I feel equipped to give advice to my younger self. Middle school was characterized by uncertainty and confusion. To mimic this sentiment, my letter to my middle school self will include many rhetorical questions – questions I wish I would’ve asked myself back then.
Finally – and most immediately relevant– is my high school self. Seeing as though I’m only about 3 years out of high school, I want to focus primarily on my early high school experience. I do think talking about college and the future, however, is inevitable, so it may be difficult to distinguish between my underclassmen and upperclassmen years. I remember feeling like I wasn’t enough and always comparing myself to others. In the back of my mind was this huge fear for the future. Will I get into college? Will I make friends? Will I be okay? I want this letter to be about my relationships with my family and my road to self-confidence. This letter – which I will use as my sample – is a way for me to measure how far I’ve come in just a few short years.
SAMPLE
To my high school self:
You are strong. You are capable. And you are enough.
I know your thoughts are consumed with fear. In a few short years, this chapter will end, and you will pick up and move on to college. Gone are the days you live walking distance from your two best friends. Mom will no longer call upstairs that dinner is ready in the middle of your Netflix marathon. Change is coming, and although that may be scary, you have to embrace silver linings. Take the time to try every coffee shop in town; learn to cook from Mom; take the dog for walks without Dad asking. Because when it’s time to move on, you’ll miss it. It may feel like leaving high school and the familiarity of your hometown will create a huge void, but know that something good is coming. Not all change is bad change, and independence means strength and happiness.
But in the meantime, I know you are frustrated. Frustrated that Mom thinks she knows what’s best for you. Frustrated that she tells you that new friend is bad news. Frustrated that she’s always asking about what you want for your future. But don’t dismiss her words. Mothers are always right. As you sit in geometry class stuck on your dinner conversation from last night when it felt like you were being ridiculed, Mom is at work saving lives and providing for you. She’s been in your shoes, and her objective point of view regards your best interest. Soon you’ll long for those conversations, instead communicating miles apart through short phone calls and texts. So, as you deal with your frustration, recognize this emotion but don’t let it control you. Remind yourself frustration is temporary.
I know that you are annoyed. Annoyed that your history teacher makes you play Kahoot on Fridays. Annoyed that your classmate occupying the locker below you is too chatty during passing period. Annoyed that the freshmen are walking too slowly through the halls. But don’t take anything for granted. Soon you’ll be one in a sea of thousands – just a student ID number on a scantron. The girl in the red sweatshirt to your professor in the lecture hall. You’ll lug heavy textbooks across campus and shake with excitement as you pass your roommate inside a campus building. Learn to appreciate the small inconveniences because someday you’ll miss them.
I know that you are intimidated. Intimidated as you overthink every detail of next Friday’s football game. Intimidated by the thought of junior prom and all the details that lead up to it. Intimidated by the school cafeteria, wondering where and who you’ll sit with next semester. But live in the moment. Enjoy the football game; in five years nobody will remember what you wore or where you stood on the bleachers. Nobody will remember what your prom hair looked like or the Instagram caption you spent hours fixated on. Even you might not remember where you sat in the cafeteria or who sat beside you. Instead, you’ll be left with the good memories: a victorious rivalry game, dancing with friends, and French Onion Sun Chips in the vending machine.
I know that you are overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by your course load, striving for a high-grade point average. Overwhelmed by your dance studio, training countless hours each week. Overwhelmed by the pressure you put on yourself. But in these instances, learn to strive for balance rather than perfection. It’s okay to skip ballet class to study for an exam; and it’s okay to take a brain break from studying to do something you enjoy. Above all, it’s okay to be selfish sometimes. Listen to your body and your intuition. Trust yourself to make adjustments, and prioritize what feels right in the moment: school, mental health, physical health, or whatever it may be.
So, the next time you doubt yourself or become flooded with emotion, remember to enjoy what is. Cherish each and every experience for time moves fast, and one day you’ll look back with nostalgia for what once was.
And remember, each day there are new obstacles to overcome but also new memories to be had.
Lots of love,
Your current self