A Letter To My Teenage Self

Written on the eve of my 42nd birthday.

Teen Holly, feeling cool with her hair extensions.

Dear Holly,

Every time I’ve sat down to write this I’ve stopped, shoved the chair back in frustration, walked it off, sat back down, started again, erased it all, given up, reconsidered the whole thing, cried in therapy and now, finally, here it is. I’m you, in the future. I know you never imagined living all the way to 40, but guess what? Tomorrow you’ll turn 42. And this is a very, very good thing. You’ve really outdone yourself.

Sound scary? It won’t be. I mean, it will be in the sense that life is inherently pretty terrifying. For everyone. But in a lot of ways, you’re kind of fucking fearless. Everything that happened up until now will have led you to right here, sitting at your desk as the California winter sun rises outside your window. Because you didn’t think you’d make it this far, you never really let yourself dream of what it might be. But now, you do dream about your future. It looks long and bright.

I know you’re going to do…