You just invented a time machine that allows you to visit a past version of yourself for three minutes. Your invention also allows you to take one object with you to give to yourself. What version of your self are you visiting? What are you going to say? What are you going to offer?
I’ll post my answer in the comments and will be online for the next hour, cheering you on.
I'd go back to when I was teaching high school in my mid-twenties — my first full-time job out of graduate school, my first time being able to save some money — I'd tell myself: "Your mom isn't going to be around forever. It is what it is, so — take a vacation with her, literally drain your bank account, buy two tickets to a beach destination and treat her to a fabulous time. Ask her questions, listen, listen, listen and just be there with her. You both deserve this. Oh, and here's a list of people you should avoid whenever possible."
I would visit my 18-year-old self to tell her to go ahead search for her biological mother already! I would tell her that there is no reason to be scared.
My biological mother looked for me around that time. When the agency found me, she decided not to contact me as she had just been diagnosed with cancer. She died shortly after. When I found this out many years later, I regretted (and keep regretting) not having looked for her before. It's the one thing I would change about my life.
I visit sixteen year old me. I hand him a copy of the short story anthology we're going to appear in. I say, "Don't read our story in there because I don't want to create a bootstrap paradox, but just know we're going to make it, bud. Also, chill out a bit; Catholic school really fucked with our head. Read more poetry. Start therapy sooner. Love yourself, be kinder to yourself. Experience everything you can. The future will hurt, but it's going to be great, too."
The easy question is what object I'd bring: my one line a day journal for a little insight into future successes. I guess I'd bring it to the awkward 20 year old me who wasn't sure what this journey would look like and if it would all matter. (Spoiler alert: it did!)
I would visit 22 year old me, who was lost and saw no path toward "real" adulthood (didn't know what I meant, just knew it was eluding me). I would bring a picture of my family and tell her that she's going to make it, and it's going to be worth the screw ups and side paths she's going to follow. Like Jen just commented, I wouldn't give a hint of how to get there, because I think the mistakes and detours were part of the promise. But I will tell myself that.
I would go back to around 18yr old me, i'd tell me what my future looks like, Id tell myself to dump a few guy(s) and to get out into the world, don't feel that I am 'too old' to do anything and start really living my life instead of waiting until my 30s to stop caring how other people see me.
I would go back to the 16 version of myself. I would bring my therapy workbook to show her that she could be strong and better, would just take some time and work. ❤️
I love this, Johanna! Truth be told, every sixteen year old should be given a therapy workbook on their birthday. Also, I love the idea of showing ourselves the work. Beautiful.
I would visit the 19 version of myself, alone and alienated and fearful. I would bring a letter. I am going to say everything you've experienced thus far is merely compost for you to continue to learn from and gain wisdom and perspective. I would tell myself not to doubt for one moment that I am worthy of deep love and belonging and purpose. I will offer a letter, simply of encouragement and nourishment, I will not reveal the future. I will let myself make the same mistakes all over again.
I like this! Let's call it The No-Shortcuts approach. Like, here's some warmth, some hope, some energy, but you've just gotta go through it, baby. I see the vision, Jen.
25 year old me, standing alone in my bridal suite on my wedding day, about to marry the man I will divorce two years later. I will tell her that the marriage failing is inevitable but not life-ending, that divorce in your 20s is rough but not impossible, that her people are waiting for her on the other side of it all, and that she will inherit a strength never thought imaginable. And then I'd hand her a list of questions she should ask the next person she thinks of marrying, that will save her from heartbreak and this communicative impasse. And then I'd tell her to hold her soon-to-be husband a little closer all night, so that she can remember that even on the bad days it was good to have his love, at this time, in this room, even if it was not meant to last forever.
I would visit 17 year old me and bring him a toy airplane. Tell him to keep it as a reminder that I won’t be stuck forever—geographically or emotionally. I never thought I’d be able to face my traumas, but I have and I will. And I never thought I’d be able to visit some of the most beautiful cities on this planet, but I have and I will.
I'd visit my 2007 self, when I was severely depressed. I'd bring my rainbow-colored sobriety scarf that I knitted. I think my younger self would be astounded that 1) I was capable of creating something beautiful--depression convinced me I couldn't, 2) I picked up a new skill, and 3) it was possible to be sober for a year and counting. I'd also have the incredibly difficult conversation to leave school earlier, that heartache is unavoidable, and it's still possible to find joy amongst the shards.
What a beautiful memento! I like the idea of an object that itself says "you're going to go through an experience and literally create something beautiful out of what you learn and work toward."
I would go back three years ago, when I was 29 and my mother was in hospice. I'd tell myself to be brave and stay with your mom every night, even though it's excruciating because she's a shadow of herself now. Remember that she's still your mom, and she's going to die in a few days, not weeks like her doctors say, and the hospital will get your number wrong and the next time you visit it'll be too late. Maybe if you can bear to do this you won't feel like you need to use dating as a distraction from your grief and guilt, because no-account men will only bring you more pain.
I'd take the lock of my mom's hair I randomly found a year ago so that I wouldn't have to spend 2 years wishing I'd somehow had the presence of mind in the midst of shock and grief to cut some when I went to identify her body and realized only her hair wasn't cold, only her hair still felt like her.
I would visit myself at 19, when I had just moved back to the States from the Middle East, where I lived during high school. I was traumatized from some of the things that happened while I was there, I hated living back in the US, and I had just found out I had a heart condition that was about to get a lot worse. I would bring a picture from the year I turned 30, of me mid-laugh and a little sunburned, sitting between my best friend and my partner, so she has proof that whatever happens in the next couple years, she is going to live to see thirty, and it will be good. (I would also tell her that I have a dog now)
I'd visit 14-year-old me, rocking and sobbing in her room. I'd bring a hug and some decent face product, along with instructions to STOP WASHING HER HAIR EVERY DAY for the love of all that is holy.
I would visit my twenty one year old self, and I would take him a copy of Nujabes' album Spiritual State. I would tell him not to use chemical crutches and dangerous situations to cope with the monumental shifts in his life but use the brilliant peace that music can create to help him spend time with himself, so that he can properly grieve and move on. I would tell him that closure is not guaranteed in any situation, and to release himself from guilt, resentment and self-destruction. I think that my old self didn't think that he was worthy of love because he didn't love himself. And he didn't love himself because he didn't spend enough time with himself learning about himself. He only got to see his reflection in other people's eyes and spent too much time reacting to that.
To echo others, thank you for creating this space for us to reflect.
I'd visit 20 year old me and would bring a video of my current house and cats to show her shaking off toxic family and a crap country are the best options and to keep on keeping on because we go FAR.
Going back to freshman year of college and telling myself to use that free ride to study and make art and write more, not learn accounting; to end things with the redhead sooner (even though he’s kind); to go to therapy while it’s free/near free; and to be more grateful. Taking back my friend’s funeral program to remind her to talk to him and see him even more than she already does.
I'd visit my 14-year-old self, right before I started high school, and give her one of the journals I completed in college. I'd give her this advice: 1) always surround yourself with people who inspire and motivate and support you, 2) find any opportunity to discover your passion and then give yourself permission to follow it (however unrealistic you think it is), and 3) be kinder to your family and create as many memories as possible with them.
Love this question. I'd go back to 19 year old me who was heartbroken over a friend-with-benefits who didn't love her back. I'd bring a cute photo of me and my current partner who I love very much, to tell 19-year-old Camille that she is worthy of a great love, and will certainly find one!
I would visit 21 year old me right after my first date with the guy I stayed with for 5 and a half years. I would tell her that she doesn't need him, that he will slowly but decisively dismantle her confidence and strength and power, that it will take almost 2 decades (and a few more disastrous decisions) before she figures out that she was worthy all along. I would take a photo from my first solo art show in a gallery, taken a few months before I turned 40. I would hug her and tell her that even if she ignores my warnings, she will eventually arrive where she is meant to be. And I would tell her that I love her, flaws and all.
This is difficult - because part of me wants to go back to my anorexic teenage self with a current photograph showing her I'd be safe if I gained weight. I would tell her to stop wasting time hating her body and food. And stop wasting her mother's money on treatment.
But honestly, I would probably go back to my college self, show her my current paycheck, and tell her to go major in something useful.
Hmm, I think I would bring teenage me my copy of Citizen Illegal with José's note to me and "Ode to Cheese Fries" both earmarked. I wonder where my life would be right now if I had got that message to be unabashed in my identity and my poetry way back then. Even now, as an already confident adult, even in such a short time, it has made tidal waves in my journey! <3
13, show her an unremarkable selfie, and tell her how much I love my face and body and being. I spent so much time and energy being cruel to myself and thinking I would never be worth anything, to myself or to others. My friendships got me through it all, but it breaks my heart that it took me so long to come around.
The day I left the hospital after an emergency appendectomy - before visiting hours. My offering is my current resume. I would encourage me to go to my parents and let them care for me. Get a storage unit, move out on my roommates, and let the people who love me love me. Stay home for at least three months. Rest. Take Ethel. Take Boris. (cats) Tell the nurse I may not do well on Lortab because my father doesn't and ask what other pain meds can I take. Read. Remind me that I asked for a miracle and got one - it is okay to accept it. Also I would tell me that I love me.
I think I would go back to 15 year old me with a photo of my wedding party that has a note about who each of those people are and how much they mean. I'd tell him to do everything that he's going to do, even if he's going to get to my age and wish he'd done some things differently, because that's how he'll get to meet these people. I'm gonna give him a big hug, and then just before I go, I'm going to tell him the one thing he actually SHOULD do differently is be way less stressed about alcohol and pot, because there's really nothing to worry about.
I'd visit 20 year old me and bring a video of my current home and cats and tell her it's okay to shake off toxic family and a country with little prospects and press on because we go FAR.
I lost my Mom when I was 20. She'd been sick for a while and had the forethought to legally emancipate me at 18. No Dad, extended family sucked. It's the best advice I could give myself. =)
I'm headed back (not so long ago) to late 20's me- where I am starting to find a way to love my expertise and the people who have become the fabric of my life, but where I don't know how my world will get wider, as I embrace being single & not wanting kids, but I can feel my friends shifting toward a life I'm so happy for them to have, but a life that will inevitably involve less "me". I'm taking the book from an author I have addressed to me- about him seeing me answer his question on jeopardy. It won't quite make sense- but will let me know the ways in which my 30's will change my life will be both wild & wonderful. (And to be fair, weird).
I would visit 20-year-old me, out of the town for the first time in her life. I'd tell her to say no to the man who asked her to marry him, and to run the other way, like, SPRINT and never look back — and perhaps take up that offer to the university in Germany. I'd bring her a copy of my PhD thesis, and tell her, you would probably be more capable than doing this today if you listen to me now. But even if she doesn't, I would still love her, she (and I) are still loved, and we are both powerful nevertheless.
I'd go back to August 2018 and let her know that the next few weeks were the last ones I get to spend with the man I considered my adoptive dad, and I'd give her a letter for him.
This is fraught for me. I’d go back to my 27 year old self and try to convince her she needs to get her boyfriend to go to the doctor and get a colonoscopy because the cancer that will kill him is in there now and if they find it sooner he might end up surviving.
I would visit me at 13 in the throes of chronic pain and undiagnosed mental illness, and I would say “you’re going to make it through this, you’ll live into your thirties so far, but please go to a doctor, please go to therapy, please talk about your problems sooner, to make things easier on yourself.” And I’d probably give myself some of my meds and say “see how helpful these are???”
I'd go back to my 16 year old self (who had just come out of a long episode of depression and was pining over an unavailable, religious guy) and hand them a vibrator. I'd tell them, "you can take charge of your own pleasure. Also, your body is not weird."
I would visit my 15 year old self and tell her to stop trying to blend in, that only makes you stick out more. Embrace the sharp edges and weird pieces that keep you YOU. And I'd give her a list of the places I've visited, because I never believed I'd be able to travel.
I’d go back to the day I turned 17 and give that girl a slip of paper with my favorite quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” The guy that I had been with for a couple of months wouldn’t return any of my calls that day and literally hid from me at a friend’s house. I was pissed. I didn’t need a present, just wanted to hang out. Things got smoothed over and, fast forward, I married him and we’ve been together ever since. He’s never put any effort into me, and I never felt enough self worth to leave. Last year when I turned 40 he didn’t even get me a card. I should have believed him the first time he showed me.
me who decided not to study abroad because the “love of her life” said he’d have to break up with her if she went. I’d tell her to believe him when he said she’d be out of sight out of mind, despite the fact that he said he wanted to marry her. I’d give myself a ring and make myself promise to go on the trip, vow my life to my writing & let that man go.
I’m going back to 2006. Sixth grade me is terrified and scared of being gay. I’m giving myself a copy of “Annie On My Mind” and making sure my sixth-grade self knows I’m hot now.
I'd visit 11-year-old me, after my mom was diagnosed with cancer but before she passed away, and tell her to 1) appreciate every moment available and to document them for her future memories and 2) that this will be a formative experience of her life and that she will come out stronger for it. I'd bring her one of my first big published articles to show her—and to have her show to my mom—that she'd make it as a writer and all the scribbling along the way was very much worth it.
I'm not sure what the object would be, maybe a picture or video of my home, husband, and pet-family (2 dogs and 2 cats), something to show my 14-18YO self that I do not need to give in to the voices in my head leading me towards an extremely disordered relationship to food and my body, to show younger me that she is capable and worthy and loved for who she is and not what she looks like.
I'd take my wedding album to heartbroken 24 y/o me to show me that while some people break our hearts and betray our trust (I'm talking adopted family not significant others) things DID work out. I walked my damn self down the aisle, found someone that was a better fit as a partner, and created my own chosen family. My adopted family broke my heart when their abuse came to light and I struggled with that pain for the next decade. Therapy, true friends, and developing my own interests helped immensely in the healing process.
PS- I just listened to your episode of Design Matters and from one Memphian to another, you're lovely <3
I’m going to see me at the end of college. “You know what you want to do. Do it now. Go travel and take photos. There’s no better time on the horizon. There’s nothing pretentious about being an ‘artist’. Trust yourself and take photos that make you happy. Don’t try to guess what others want to see. Find yourself. And take your best friend that you just met. She’s really great.” I would give past-me my favorite camera and say, “This is all you need. Nothing fancier or more expensive will serve you better. Oh and don’t take on any debt. Ever. Godspeed.”
I would visit my 31 year old self since I was just graduating from college and planning to apply to Cornell University in upstate New York. I'd take my son with me.
I would go to see my 11-year-old self. I would take her to a salon and help her learn how to style her own hair so it looked just how she wanted it. I would take her on a boat on the ocean. I would enroll her in tap dancing and voice lessons and I would coach her to not give up when she felt like she didn’t know how to do it/wasn’t good enough. I would tell her it’s ok to change; when you grow, you can become a better version of yourself, not worse. I would say, someone close to you will hurt you a great deal, but it does not mean you are any less valuable or worthy of love. I would tell her, you may not feel this or believe me now, but you are going to be a person with a tremendous amount of courage, determination and heart. You are going to be capable of so much more than you think. I would say, you don’t have to go through hard things alone. I would say, in about ten years, you will be gifted a rather large sum of money. Make sure you put it into an account with interest; don’t spend it all, because you are worthy of being cared for and secure longterm. I would say, I still love musicals. I would bring her a handmade card, a necklace and some sculpey clay.
In middle school, my peers voted me “most likely to succeed.” I left those peers for what I thought that success might be. The acceptance letter, and fat financial aid package, came the same day as my best friend’s fourteenth birthday. I didn’t tell her. I sang her happy birthday, and lamented the memories we’d never make together. Boarding school was both a blessing and a curse. I felt “of other,” I spoke “of other.” I resented the nonchalant decadence of a well-endowed everything - library, arts center (an entire damn center), gym - and when I wasn’t self flagellating for being poorer than my roommate, I was cutting my teeth on well- rehearsed defensiveness. Every day I would wake up and tell (chant to) myself, “This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted.”
If I could travel back in time, I’d go back to the morning I left for boarding school, and I’d hand me photos of my middle school friends’ future selves. I wouldn’t be in any of them, but that’s why seeing those photos would be so important. Those friends are happy. They’re smart. They’re sexy. Some of them go by different names. They’re colorful and authentic. I'd say, "They'll be just fine." If they were going to be okay, I could grant my scared shitless fourteen year old self the permission, nay the grace, to also be okay. Time is finite, and I wish I had spent less of it pondering my own worth. If you are breathing, you are deserving.
I would go back to right before I decided to take my ex boyfriend back for the last time. I would tell myself not to do it and just ignore his calls because he is not worth it. Would have saved myself so much heartache and stress. I would take my diploma from NYU with me so I can show myself that I never gave up on my dream to finish college.
I'd go back to when I was teaching high school in my mid-twenties — my first full-time job out of graduate school, my first time being able to save some money — I'd tell myself: "Your mom isn't going to be around forever. It is what it is, so — take a vacation with her, literally drain your bank account, buy two tickets to a beach destination and treat her to a fabulous time. Ask her questions, listen, listen, listen and just be there with her. You both deserve this. Oh, and here's a list of people you should avoid whenever possible."
We all definitely need that list of people to avoid!
So true!! I feel this.
I would visit my 18-year-old self to tell her to go ahead search for her biological mother already! I would tell her that there is no reason to be scared.
My biological mother looked for me around that time. When the agency found me, she decided not to contact me as she had just been diagnosed with cancer. She died shortly after. When I found this out many years later, I regretted (and keep regretting) not having looked for her before. It's the one thing I would change about my life.
Thank you, Saeed, for this moment of reflection.
Wow, Christina. Thank you for sharing this with us.
I'm very afraid to search for mine, so this resonates. Thank you for sharing your story.
I visit sixteen year old me. I hand him a copy of the short story anthology we're going to appear in. I say, "Don't read our story in there because I don't want to create a bootstrap paradox, but just know we're going to make it, bud. Also, chill out a bit; Catholic school really fucked with our head. Read more poetry. Start therapy sooner. Love yourself, be kinder to yourself. Experience everything you can. The future will hurt, but it's going to be great, too."
And then I give myself a hug.
START. THERAPY. SOONER. A lesson for each and every one of us, tbh.
Also part of my time travel plan!
The easy question is what object I'd bring: my one line a day journal for a little insight into future successes. I guess I'd bring it to the awkward 20 year old me who wasn't sure what this journey would look like and if it would all matter. (Spoiler alert: it did!)
Great question...
Damn, Suzanne. You just made the single most convincing argument for keeping a daily journal. Also, one-line a day! Brilliant. I might try this.
seconding the starting a one-line-a-day practice!
I would visit 22 year old me, who was lost and saw no path toward "real" adulthood (didn't know what I meant, just knew it was eluding me). I would bring a picture of my family and tell her that she's going to make it, and it's going to be worth the screw ups and side paths she's going to follow. Like Jen just commented, I wouldn't give a hint of how to get there, because I think the mistakes and detours were part of the promise. But I will tell myself that.
The idea of just seeing a photograph of my future family — my tribe, my chosen people — is incredible. WOW. Y'all are so great.
I would go back to around 18yr old me, i'd tell me what my future looks like, Id tell myself to dump a few guy(s) and to get out into the world, don't feel that I am 'too old' to do anything and start really living my life instead of waiting until my 30s to stop caring how other people see me.
HELL YEAH. I feel like "dump him/them, girl" is a vital piece of time-travel information.
yesssssssssss so many people out there not worth our love/time/effort
I would go back to the 16 version of myself. I would bring my therapy workbook to show her that she could be strong and better, would just take some time and work. ❤️
I love this, Johanna! Truth be told, every sixteen year old should be given a therapy workbook on their birthday. Also, I love the idea of showing ourselves the work. Beautiful.
I would visit the 19 version of myself, alone and alienated and fearful. I would bring a letter. I am going to say everything you've experienced thus far is merely compost for you to continue to learn from and gain wisdom and perspective. I would tell myself not to doubt for one moment that I am worthy of deep love and belonging and purpose. I will offer a letter, simply of encouragement and nourishment, I will not reveal the future. I will let myself make the same mistakes all over again.
I like this! Let's call it The No-Shortcuts approach. Like, here's some warmth, some hope, some energy, but you've just gotta go through it, baby. I see the vision, Jen.
25 year old me, standing alone in my bridal suite on my wedding day, about to marry the man I will divorce two years later. I will tell her that the marriage failing is inevitable but not life-ending, that divorce in your 20s is rough but not impossible, that her people are waiting for her on the other side of it all, and that she will inherit a strength never thought imaginable. And then I'd hand her a list of questions she should ask the next person she thinks of marrying, that will save her from heartbreak and this communicative impasse. And then I'd tell her to hold her soon-to-be husband a little closer all night, so that she can remember that even on the bad days it was good to have his love, at this time, in this room, even if it was not meant to last forever.
Oh, wow. A list of thoughtful questions to consider is gracious and smart, Alyson. Love this idea.
I would visit 17 year old me and bring him a toy airplane. Tell him to keep it as a reminder that I won’t be stuck forever—geographically or emotionally. I never thought I’d be able to face my traumas, but I have and I will. And I never thought I’d be able to visit some of the most beautiful cities on this planet, but I have and I will.
I'd visit my 2007 self, when I was severely depressed. I'd bring my rainbow-colored sobriety scarf that I knitted. I think my younger self would be astounded that 1) I was capable of creating something beautiful--depression convinced me I couldn't, 2) I picked up a new skill, and 3) it was possible to be sober for a year and counting. I'd also have the incredibly difficult conversation to leave school earlier, that heartache is unavoidable, and it's still possible to find joy amongst the shards.
What a beautiful memento! I like the idea of an object that itself says "you're going to go through an experience and literally create something beautiful out of what you learn and work toward."
I would visit my 11 year old self and reassure her, her mother was overwhelmed (4 kids In 2&1/2 years)she didn't mean to be so discouraging.
*HUG*
I would absolutely go back and tell sixteen year old me that I was gay.
Girl, SAME.
I would go back three years ago, when I was 29 and my mother was in hospice. I'd tell myself to be brave and stay with your mom every night, even though it's excruciating because she's a shadow of herself now. Remember that she's still your mom, and she's going to die in a few days, not weeks like her doctors say, and the hospital will get your number wrong and the next time you visit it'll be too late. Maybe if you can bear to do this you won't feel like you need to use dating as a distraction from your grief and guilt, because no-account men will only bring you more pain.
I'd take the lock of my mom's hair I randomly found a year ago so that I wouldn't have to spend 2 years wishing I'd somehow had the presence of mind in the midst of shock and grief to cut some when I went to identify her body and realized only her hair wasn't cold, only her hair still felt like her.
*hug*
I would visit myself at 19, when I had just moved back to the States from the Middle East, where I lived during high school. I was traumatized from some of the things that happened while I was there, I hated living back in the US, and I had just found out I had a heart condition that was about to get a lot worse. I would bring a picture from the year I turned 30, of me mid-laugh and a little sunburned, sitting between my best friend and my partner, so she has proof that whatever happens in the next couple years, she is going to live to see thirty, and it will be good. (I would also tell her that I have a dog now)
I'd visit 14-year-old me, rocking and sobbing in her room. I'd bring a hug and some decent face product, along with instructions to STOP WASHING HER HAIR EVERY DAY for the love of all that is holy.
I would visit my twenty one year old self, and I would take him a copy of Nujabes' album Spiritual State. I would tell him not to use chemical crutches and dangerous situations to cope with the monumental shifts in his life but use the brilliant peace that music can create to help him spend time with himself, so that he can properly grieve and move on. I would tell him that closure is not guaranteed in any situation, and to release himself from guilt, resentment and self-destruction. I think that my old self didn't think that he was worthy of love because he didn't love himself. And he didn't love himself because he didn't spend enough time with himself learning about himself. He only got to see his reflection in other people's eyes and spent too much time reacting to that.
To echo others, thank you for creating this space for us to reflect.
I'd visit 20 year old me and would bring a video of my current house and cats to show her shaking off toxic family and a crap country are the best options and to keep on keeping on because we go FAR.
YES, YES, YES.
Going back to freshman year of college and telling myself to use that free ride to study and make art and write more, not learn accounting; to end things with the redhead sooner (even though he’s kind); to go to therapy while it’s free/near free; and to be more grateful. Taking back my friend’s funeral program to remind her to talk to him and see him even more than she already does.
I'd visit my 14-year-old self, right before I started high school, and give her one of the journals I completed in college. I'd give her this advice: 1) always surround yourself with people who inspire and motivate and support you, 2) find any opportunity to discover your passion and then give yourself permission to follow it (however unrealistic you think it is), and 3) be kinder to your family and create as many memories as possible with them.
Love this question. I'd go back to 19 year old me who was heartbroken over a friend-with-benefits who didn't love her back. I'd bring a cute photo of me and my current partner who I love very much, to tell 19-year-old Camille that she is worthy of a great love, and will certainly find one!
I would visit 21 year old me right after my first date with the guy I stayed with for 5 and a half years. I would tell her that she doesn't need him, that he will slowly but decisively dismantle her confidence and strength and power, that it will take almost 2 decades (and a few more disastrous decisions) before she figures out that she was worthy all along. I would take a photo from my first solo art show in a gallery, taken a few months before I turned 40. I would hug her and tell her that even if she ignores my warnings, she will eventually arrive where she is meant to be. And I would tell her that I love her, flaws and all.
Very similar to my experience. Wishing you continued confidence, strength & power!
I would go back to my early 20s and tell myself that I am always enough.
This is difficult - because part of me wants to go back to my anorexic teenage self with a current photograph showing her I'd be safe if I gained weight. I would tell her to stop wasting time hating her body and food. And stop wasting her mother's money on treatment.
But honestly, I would probably go back to my college self, show her my current paycheck, and tell her to go major in something useful.
Hmm, I think I would bring teenage me my copy of Citizen Illegal with José's note to me and "Ode to Cheese Fries" both earmarked. I wonder where my life would be right now if I had got that message to be unabashed in my identity and my poetry way back then. Even now, as an already confident adult, even in such a short time, it has made tidal waves in my journey! <3
I've been meaning to add "Citizen Illegal" to my reading list. Thank you for the reminder, Stephen!
13, show her an unremarkable selfie, and tell her how much I love my face and body and being. I spent so much time and energy being cruel to myself and thinking I would never be worth anything, to myself or to others. My friendships got me through it all, but it breaks my heart that it took me so long to come around.
The day I left the hospital after an emergency appendectomy - before visiting hours. My offering is my current resume. I would encourage me to go to my parents and let them care for me. Get a storage unit, move out on my roommates, and let the people who love me love me. Stay home for at least three months. Rest. Take Ethel. Take Boris. (cats) Tell the nurse I may not do well on Lortab because my father doesn't and ask what other pain meds can I take. Read. Remind me that I asked for a miracle and got one - it is okay to accept it. Also I would tell me that I love me.
I feel this. ❤️
I think I would go back to 15 year old me with a photo of my wedding party that has a note about who each of those people are and how much they mean. I'd tell him to do everything that he's going to do, even if he's going to get to my age and wish he'd done some things differently, because that's how he'll get to meet these people. I'm gonna give him a big hug, and then just before I go, I'm going to tell him the one thing he actually SHOULD do differently is be way less stressed about alcohol and pot, because there's really nothing to worry about.
Ahh, I love the idea of seeing who is gonna be in your wedding party! So much info and joy packed into that photograph.
I'd visit 20 year old me and bring a video of my current home and cats and tell her it's okay to shake off toxic family and a country with little prospects and press on because we go FAR.
This is lovely, Maria.
I lost my Mom when I was 20. She'd been sick for a while and had the forethought to legally emancipate me at 18. No Dad, extended family sucked. It's the best advice I could give myself. =)
I'm headed back (not so long ago) to late 20's me- where I am starting to find a way to love my expertise and the people who have become the fabric of my life, but where I don't know how my world will get wider, as I embrace being single & not wanting kids, but I can feel my friends shifting toward a life I'm so happy for them to have, but a life that will inevitably involve less "me". I'm taking the book from an author I have addressed to me- about him seeing me answer his question on jeopardy. It won't quite make sense- but will let me know the ways in which my 30's will change my life will be both wild & wonderful. (And to be fair, weird).
I would visit 20-year-old me, out of the town for the first time in her life. I'd tell her to say no to the man who asked her to marry him, and to run the other way, like, SPRINT and never look back — and perhaps take up that offer to the university in Germany. I'd bring her a copy of my PhD thesis, and tell her, you would probably be more capable than doing this today if you listen to me now. But even if she doesn't, I would still love her, she (and I) are still loved, and we are both powerful nevertheless.
Late to this, but I would visit 16-year-old me, and tell her not to get on the motorcycle.
I'd go back to August 2018 and let her know that the next few weeks were the last ones I get to spend with the man I considered my adoptive dad, and I'd give her a letter for him.
This is fraught for me. I’d go back to my 27 year old self and try to convince her she needs to get her boyfriend to go to the doctor and get a colonoscopy because the cancer that will kill him is in there now and if they find it sooner he might end up surviving.
I would visit me at 13 in the throes of chronic pain and undiagnosed mental illness, and I would say “you’re going to make it through this, you’ll live into your thirties so far, but please go to a doctor, please go to therapy, please talk about your problems sooner, to make things easier on yourself.” And I’d probably give myself some of my meds and say “see how helpful these are???”
I'd go back to my 16 year old self (who had just come out of a long episode of depression and was pining over an unavailable, religious guy) and hand them a vibrator. I'd tell them, "you can take charge of your own pleasure. Also, your body is not weird."
I would visit my 15 year old self and tell her to stop trying to blend in, that only makes you stick out more. Embrace the sharp edges and weird pieces that keep you YOU. And I'd give her a list of the places I've visited, because I never believed I'd be able to travel.
I’d go back to the day I turned 17 and give that girl a slip of paper with my favorite quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” The guy that I had been with for a couple of months wouldn’t return any of my calls that day and literally hid from me at a friend’s house. I was pissed. I didn’t need a present, just wanted to hang out. Things got smoothed over and, fast forward, I married him and we’ve been together ever since. He’s never put any effort into me, and I never felt enough self worth to leave. Last year when I turned 40 he didn’t even get me a card. I should have believed him the first time he showed me.
I’d go back to the 20 year old version of
me who decided not to study abroad because the “love of her life” said he’d have to break up with her if she went. I’d tell her to believe him when he said she’d be out of sight out of mind, despite the fact that he said he wanted to marry her. I’d give myself a ring and make myself promise to go on the trip, vow my life to my writing & let that man go.
something like: “BITCH, you think THIS is the love
of your life?! YOU ARE WAY TOO GOOD TO BE FORGOTTEN. TRUST YOUR GUT. DO NOT MARRY HIM YOU INTELLIGENT AND DYNAMIC CHILD”
I’m going back to 2006. Sixth grade me is terrified and scared of being gay. I’m giving myself a copy of “Annie On My Mind” and making sure my sixth-grade self knows I’m hot now.
I'd visit 11-year-old me, after my mom was diagnosed with cancer but before she passed away, and tell her to 1) appreciate every moment available and to document them for her future memories and 2) that this will be a formative experience of her life and that she will come out stronger for it. I'd bring her one of my first big published articles to show her—and to have her show to my mom—that she'd make it as a writer and all the scribbling along the way was very much worth it.
I'm not sure what the object would be, maybe a picture or video of my home, husband, and pet-family (2 dogs and 2 cats), something to show my 14-18YO self that I do not need to give in to the voices in my head leading me towards an extremely disordered relationship to food and my body, to show younger me that she is capable and worthy and loved for who she is and not what she looks like.
I'd take my wedding album to heartbroken 24 y/o me to show me that while some people break our hearts and betray our trust (I'm talking adopted family not significant others) things DID work out. I walked my damn self down the aisle, found someone that was a better fit as a partner, and created my own chosen family. My adopted family broke my heart when their abuse came to light and I struggled with that pain for the next decade. Therapy, true friends, and developing my own interests helped immensely in the healing process.
PS- I just listened to your episode of Design Matters and from one Memphian to another, you're lovely <3
I’m going to see me at the end of college. “You know what you want to do. Do it now. Go travel and take photos. There’s no better time on the horizon. There’s nothing pretentious about being an ‘artist’. Trust yourself and take photos that make you happy. Don’t try to guess what others want to see. Find yourself. And take your best friend that you just met. She’s really great.” I would give past-me my favorite camera and say, “This is all you need. Nothing fancier or more expensive will serve you better. Oh and don’t take on any debt. Ever. Godspeed.”
I would visit my 31 year old self since I was just graduating from college and planning to apply to Cornell University in upstate New York. I'd take my son with me.
I would go to see my 11-year-old self. I would take her to a salon and help her learn how to style her own hair so it looked just how she wanted it. I would take her on a boat on the ocean. I would enroll her in tap dancing and voice lessons and I would coach her to not give up when she felt like she didn’t know how to do it/wasn’t good enough. I would tell her it’s ok to change; when you grow, you can become a better version of yourself, not worse. I would say, someone close to you will hurt you a great deal, but it does not mean you are any less valuable or worthy of love. I would tell her, you may not feel this or believe me now, but you are going to be a person with a tremendous amount of courage, determination and heart. You are going to be capable of so much more than you think. I would say, you don’t have to go through hard things alone. I would say, in about ten years, you will be gifted a rather large sum of money. Make sure you put it into an account with interest; don’t spend it all, because you are worthy of being cared for and secure longterm. I would say, I still love musicals. I would bring her a handmade card, a necklace and some sculpey clay.
SHAKEN.
Fire windows and number is on my iPhone app for iOS maps mail boxing
In middle school, my peers voted me “most likely to succeed.” I left those peers for what I thought that success might be. The acceptance letter, and fat financial aid package, came the same day as my best friend’s fourteenth birthday. I didn’t tell her. I sang her happy birthday, and lamented the memories we’d never make together. Boarding school was both a blessing and a curse. I felt “of other,” I spoke “of other.” I resented the nonchalant decadence of a well-endowed everything - library, arts center (an entire damn center), gym - and when I wasn’t self flagellating for being poorer than my roommate, I was cutting my teeth on well- rehearsed defensiveness. Every day I would wake up and tell (chant to) myself, “This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted.”
If I could travel back in time, I’d go back to the morning I left for boarding school, and I’d hand me photos of my middle school friends’ future selves. I wouldn’t be in any of them, but that’s why seeing those photos would be so important. Those friends are happy. They’re smart. They’re sexy. Some of them go by different names. They’re colorful and authentic. I'd say, "They'll be just fine." If they were going to be okay, I could grant my scared shitless fourteen year old self the permission, nay the grace, to also be okay. Time is finite, and I wish I had spent less of it pondering my own worth. If you are breathing, you are deserving.
I would go back to right before I decided to take my ex boyfriend back for the last time. I would tell myself not to do it and just ignore his calls because he is not worth it. Would have saved myself so much heartache and stress. I would take my diploma from NYU with me so I can show myself that I never gave up on my dream to finish college.