An Open Letter

This was originally written on January 28, 2014, but for whatever shiny-object reason, it just sat.

I’m sometimes surprised to see that weeks and weeks have passed since last I posted. I mean, it’s not like I’ve run out of things to say. It's more like... I’ve run out of a reason to say them. I’m utterly bored with my own company, though I’m not in a big hurry to seek out the company of others. Mostly because their imaginary problems annoy me…

So because she has been weighing on my mind and I haven’t done anything more than say, “fuck. I really should send a card,” and because I really should write something - preferably something useful, I feel like the two-birds-one-stone thing just seems smart.

Dear Katie,
You’re 24 (or you were when I wrote this). Yeah, I know you know that – but it struck me in an odd way as I was thinking about your imminent move, far, far away from everything and everyone you know. Clearly because I’m so self-involved, I found myself on an involuntary trip down memory lane as I considered your new life.

I was 24 when I left everything behind and took off alone for parts unknown. I had a plane ticket, $800 in cash, no car, no job and no place to live waiting for me when I got where I was going. But still I went, so strong was that sense of self-preservation.I know you get that.

You’ve seen a lot of life already, too much of it not fit for polite conversation, and it breaks my heart. I remember how that feels; how things stop surprising you; how a now jaded view of people leaves you sighing with exasperation; how you seriously cannot understand why and how people can be so hateful and small, hurting others because they can. You want to ask yourself how this is your life, but that sounds self-indulgent and weak, even to your own ears.

We may be many things, but we are not weak. Horror makes a girl tough. I wish you were softer.

So! You’re off! Or nearly anyway and I couldn’t be happier for you. That said, I do worry about you. I look at my life, and I’m sure I can see you waaaaaay back there, unknowingly walking in my footsteps. Cripes, girl. No good can come of that. None. Please take two giant steps to your right.

Here’s the part where I give you a ton of advice:

1. Don’t put your dog in a hunt that you don’t actually need to win.
2. Don’t be too tough. It’s too exhausting… and it causes premature aging.
3. Always use diplomacy, but never back down when you’re right. People will take advantage of you when they think they can.
4. Choose your friends slowly. I was never good at that and, well, you saw how some of those ended up. Yeah. Refer to #3.
5. Don’t become rigid, married to a set of rules or the way life “should be.” You’re not a “should be” kind of girl and that’s too special to waste.
6. Remember that You define You – so You can change, or choose not to, every single day.
7. Keep a good pair of sunglasses and a pretty lipstick next to the front door – Always! You never know when you’ll need to bolt out unexpectedly and my Grandmother always said a girl can get by in any emergency as long as she has those two things.

Though we rarely spoke about the less-than-attractive bits of our lives (because that's just unseemly), I find myself wishing now that we had. You’re so smart, a true master of self-preservation, but still… there will be things. And people. And though people like us have grown quite excellent at protecting our physical beings, we’ll never be as artful at protecting our psyche. We throw ourselves into every situation with reckless abandon, regardless of its sometimes unfortunate familiarity. It's a brutal way to check for the winds of change, particularly when we already know that wishful thinking won't change the answer. A better “favorite older sister” would tell you to stop that! But I can’t. Just…. stock up on Band-Aids. Having a few scars doesn’t make you any less wonderful; it makes you even more fascinating.

So, go! Go be You! With reckless abandon! Know that if you ever need anything, anything at all, I’m not so far away.

[Sidebar: yes, that includes bail, and emergency “Excuse me, I’m where??? How did I get to Minnesota last night?” airfare *grins*]