When I was cleaning out some drawers over the summer, I stumbled upon a letter to myself I had written easily more than a decade ago. Stashed behind some old clothes the envelope stated very explicitly that it was not to be opened before January 2, 2013 (my 22nd birthday) “or else.”
So, figuring I had waited this long, I shoved the letter back into my dresser and promptly forgot it existed.
It wasn’t until I was unpacking my suitcase when I got home for Christmas that I found the letter again, and last night I finally opened it. My letter to 22-year-old self was predictably hilarious, and mostly dealt with who my friends were and what my favorite colors were circa sixth grade. I even used my “current” writing instrument of choice – my mom’s old typewrite – to write to my future self. 12-year-old me hoped “to be a mom, married, a writer, an artist, and……..” because apparently even then I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
While it may seem like not a lot has changed – I still love polka dots, have bangs & hate having my picture taken – I can already tell it’s going to be a big year for changes. Graduation, a new job, new friends and maybe even a new city. Despite all of that though, it’s nice to know some things stay the same.