Dear Younger Me, Your Magic Friendships Will Last Forever
Dear Younger Me,
You’re about to go into junior high and high school, now. You’ll find friends, though with some difficulty, because you don’t know how to fit in.
I’ll break it to you now: you’ll never fit in — not really.
That’s just not how you were made, Younger Me. When a girl from class calls you at home it’ll be for help on a math problem, not because she wants to hang out. When you go to that graduation party in a few years, you’re going to feel so out of place.
But back to school, for now.
I guarantee that your favorite class is going to be choir. (Is that weird?)
Just trust me.
You’ll sit next to a girl one grade above you — a girl with blonde hair and an incredible imagination. This girl will light the fire of your creativity and start you on your writing path.
She’ll be your best friend for life.
Stay strong, Younger Me, when her family moves away for five years. It’ll be okay, I promise. (They move back.)
You’ll grow close to that boy you convince to take creative writing with you, and you’ll forever take secret credit for lighting his writing fire. It won’t surprise you, I hope, that he ends up majoring in literature.
Other students will be your friends at that school, including one with whom you’ll trade written notes almost every day for three years. You’ll share hopes and fears, crushes and confusion, dreams and advice with her.
But it won’t last.
You’ll grow apart. In most cases, it’s inevitable. You shared almost nothing in common besides school. Your values did not match hers at all, but that’s okay.
People go their separate ways.
(You keep the notes, and eventually get back the ones you gave her. It makes a nice diary from that period in your life.)
Your friends in life, Younger Me, will ebb and flow.
Thankfully you’ll keep a close circle of people with whom you’ve shared years of your life.
From junior high and high school, you’ll only keep two people out of the many with whom you rubbed shoulders.
The girl from choir.
The boy from creative writing.
Do you sense a theme?
I do.
The ones you gravitate towards are the ones who encourage your writing. The ones who love to read the words that spill from your brain onto the page. The ones who give honest feedback and critique, even if it’s negative. You trust them.
And why shouldn’t you?
You found the thing you had in common.
Your friends from diabetes camp follow the same thread. Those with whom you’ve stayed closest the longest are those who care about you and who you are. The ones who stay with you through your final years as a camper and as you begin your journey as a counselor are your tribe.
You’d do anything for them.
It’s interesting, though, how the people you see on a daily basis are friends because you see them on a daily basis.
But once that forced togetherness — like school, or work — ends? Who remains?
The ones with whom you sparked a connection. The ones who support you for who you are, not what you can do.
Friends ebb and flow, but it’s true that some people are friends forever.
So, Younger Me, don’t be afraid of letting people go. It happens all the time.
You’ll always have your circle to lean back on, even if you go five years without seeing each other every day.
Keep writing, Younger Me. The girl from choir, the boy from creative writing, and your tribe from camp are all rooting for you — just like you root for them.
Future You
