It’s the final countdown.
Yes, my friends, we have finally reached the last of my letters to self. Years ago, as part of a school assignment, I wrote myself a series of letters, one per year, throughout middle and high school. Then, after graduating from college, I decided it was time to share them with all of you. And this is what we’ve got.
What a wild ride we’ve had.
So let’s get down to business. 2012 Meredith is going through an interesting time, to put it lightly. On the one hand, she’d spent most of her high school career planning to go to architecture school, only to realize that maybe wasn’t what she wanted after all. Her best friend also recently moved away, so she’s feeling a little lonely, a little lost, a little at a loss as to what to do next.
She had a lot of decisions to make, and not a lot of time to make them.
But she’s still that same old Meredith. Right now, she’s on a quest to watch every episode of Smallville and Degrassi: The Next Generation; it’ll take her another two years to succeed. She’s on a dystopian reading rut, tacking 1984, Animal Farm, Fahrenheit 451, Anthem, and We the Living in the span of six months. She also managed to persuade her choir teacher to skip a final exam and take the class to Les Mis in theaters instead.
And in terms of handwriting, we’ve reached our pinnacle. My handwriting in this letter is the same now; why try to change perfection? I’m talking full on cursive, folks, like they don’t make anymore. I might be the last of my kind.
For the last time: let’s dive into it.
Already getting those Evan Hansen feels, am I right?
This is the last of the letters to self. You should read this one after all of the rest because its the final chapter. It’s so surreal to think about, and yet it’s undeniably true.
Good to see that denial is already setting in.
Over the years, my writing style and my actual handwriting have both evolved.
Wait a minute – that’d make a semi-good blog series!
Presumably, my maturity level as also progressed, but that might just as well not be.
Yeah, I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one.
I swear, sometimes I still feel twelve years old at heart.
And that won’t change; it’s a good thing.
All that can be said has probably already been written. The only truth that remains is this: live your life as God wants, not as you please. Remember this.
Somebody’s growing up and realizing things, almost like a real live person!
Serious introspection above all else is needed right now, but this doesn’t have to be self-centered. Forget what your parents want and ignore what your teachers say. What does God want you to do?
It’s a pretty short letter, but it’s full of good advice and logical thinking. This is my probably my favorite letter, even though it’s the closest to me in terms of age. It shows 2012 Meredith in a light that’s hard to picture from the mere memories of a teenage girl.
Which brings me full circle back to the reason why I wanted to do this series in the first place.
One of the last classes I took before college graduation taught us that we have always been the people we are now. As in, from childhood to adolescence to full-blown adulthood, we don’t really change. Our character, our morals, our interests, and our talents are all present from a young age.
Not to say that we’re incapable of change. Obviously, we mature. We learn from mistakes. I don’t say the same things I would say or do the same things I would do when I was thirteen.
But I have the same motives. My heart is the same.
I recently did a little exercise in my morning journal based off a prompt. What activities were highlights from each lifestage when you felt pleasure in what you were doing?
Here were my answers:
0-6: playing make believe
19-22(the scale went to 24 but I haven’t gotten there yet so): writing
As you can probably tell, there’s a very clear line of action in what I like to do: stories and storytelling. And it goes full circle: I made my own stories, then read other stories, then performed those stories, and then made my own stories again.
And we’re all making our stories. The things you do today form who you will become tomorrow. Those letters that I wrote to myself, starting almost ten years ago, share smaller, neater versions of the person I was. Stack them on top of each other, and you get a picture of bigger, messier me.
Which is the whole point, I guess. Looking back at who I was to remind me of who I am now, not just to laugh or cringe or whatever, but to really value what I’ve gone through and where I’ve come from.
Thanks for tagging along with me, losers. Next week we’ll dive right back into the multi-layered world of pop culture.
Never thought you’d miss me writing about memes, now did you?