a film photo of me at sixteen, in front of my (third) high school steps.
Dear Starry Souls,
Within the past two months, I have been what my therapist calls “transient.” Meaning: I have only been existing very briefly in one place.
Just last Monday, I drove back to my apartment in Raleigh after spending a week at home with my parents. Before that, I was in Italy: where I was in a different city every weekend. And even before that, I had been back and forth between home and Raleigh.
My mental health has just been as transient. I was switching between grieving the losses that come with being in your early twenties to the highs of discovering new places and experiences. Now, I am trying hard to accept the changes that are bound to come—and have already taken place.
This state of “transience” has led me to struggle with adjusting to being back in Raleigh. I am without the usual routine that keeps me busy with work and school. Some friends are in another city–some starting a new chapter there. Some will be leaving soon.
So for the first time, the place I had worked so hard to make feel like my home has become unfamiliar and unsettling. On top of that, the person who was here two months ago feels like a stranger to the one sitting here writing this in the present.
Now, when I drive over the overpass, I can’t help but imagine taking the exit and heading towards somewhere else. There’s a GPS in my mind that doesn’t tell me my final destination but instead is constantly rerouting–demanding me to turn left, or right.
I know what this all means though. I’m feeling uprooted from myself. And completely lost.
Before, it felt easy to imagine where the rest of this year would take me, and what even next year would look like once I graduate in December. But now, it feels completely blurry and uncertain. Not because the vision I originally had no longer resonates but because I am overwhelmed by the many different versions of what could be. I am terrified by all the changes and all the choices I have to make.
The funny thing about being lost is that it's a state that you will find yourself in over and over again. I know this because I have been lost before. Whether it was during middle school when friend groups and personalities were changing to the indecision I had experienced during college decisions.
I know now that sometimes you have to get a little lost to find out what’s meant for you. And that might mean rethinking your original ideas about where you once believed you were headed. That might mean taking a detour from the original path and discovering another. That might mean turning back around to revisit somewhere you once were.
Whatever shows up and calls to me during this time, I need to surrender to it. Rest assured, it will always lead you to where you are meant to be. You will always meet yourself again and again.
I proved this to myself with the letter I had written at sixteen, addressed to me when I finally turned twenty-one.
I found it as I was cleaning out my room. It was folded, taped at the edges, and tucked neatly inside a small pink envelope. It is safe to say that even my younger self knew that I still would be in the habit of spoiling the ending for myself.
But she should be proud! I had forgotten long about that letter and left it be. Letting it be lost and here I was finding it again.
Here’s an excerpt of what I wrote:
“I truly wonder though, if you’re in the place I assume you are to be. Maybe you are at NC State, still finishing up that degree. Maybe you have finished and have found a great job. Maybe you aren’t even at State, not even in NC, or even the country. Maybe you’re in Europe….. Maybe you’re in love. Maybe you are still in search. Maybe you’re in a place I couldn’t even imagine. But I just want you to remember that wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I am proud of you.”
my childhood room at 17
I remember the year after I wrote this, I was torn between two universities. I had gotten another offer at a place I didn’t even think I would consider. I had been so deadset on attending State and there I was, overwhelmed and unsure of every decision I was asked to make.
Funny how even at the end of all that turmoil and stress, I did end up at NC State. I am about to finish not one but two degrees. I wasn’t even in the country just a month ago. I was in Europe. As for the other two things… well, that part is still being written... a story to be told another day.
All along everything I could’ve wanted did happen.
But this wasn’t even the part that struck me the most. The most freeing thing that I could have written to myself was this one sentence:
“The details don’t matter to me. Because I know, no matter what, you are in a good place.”
My younger self trusted that in some way, things would work out no matter what. And from that point, I will have continued to lose and find that trust again and again—like I am now.
I could sit here, agonizing over and over about how this next year could go. I can try to predict every detail—from the job I will have to the city I will live in. To the hair color I will wear to the loved ones I will have near. I can stress myself out and forget all it took for me to be here today.
Or… I could choose to live day by day. Because day by day, it will all unfold before me. The opportunities, the choices, the places, and the people will all come accordingly whether I want them to or not.
I could trust in myself—this future version of me—to make the decisions aligned best with her and we will be alright. More than alright.
Because the reality is this: the details will create themselves between each paint stroke I lay on the canvas—intentional or not. Time and time again I have proven to myself that my hopes and dreams can happen—just never in the way I expected them to.
That’s the fun part I guess, seeing how the journey unfolds to the destination. Because I have found more than I could have possibly imagined along the way.
I couldn’t have predicted the beautiful people I would meet—and have the honor to love and be loved by. I couldn’t have envisioned the places I would see and find a home in. I couldn't have known the incredible growth I would endure.
And maybe the final destination is just me. Because I have met myself, again and again.
I want to be excited to meet her. Today or tomorrow. Next year or ten years. So I will find that trust again and try to live—day by day. Besides, what more can I do?
I’m already on the way.
from seventeen year old to twenty-one year old me today
