#22 Things to keep in mind
what would you tell your 18-year old self?
First of all, we made it you idiot! You’re fucking fantastic! Eight years on and here you are, sitting on a desk on holiday in a big city on a Sunday afternoon, about to go to the British Museum for the day and buy overpriced iced coffee. This is what dreeeeaaaaamz are made of.
There are a few things I want you to keep in mind and reassure you of in the coming years. You’re going to want to remember them, especially when you’re full of self-doubt, or loneliness, or hit walls that you don’t know how to climb out of:
You don’t need to come off as cool. Your demeanor isn’t cool. You’re terribly affected! You’re warm and sometimes hot and sometimes heavy and sometimes all of the above. You’re going to meet people who love that. Remember that. Remember to love the fact that you’re not cool. And that’s okay. Being warm is one of the most lovable things about you. Don’t try to change your temperature for people who prefer a cooler degree.
Remember that the people you meet all have something to teach you, if you know how to look. The guy who dumped you over new years with a text about being too stressed about his thesis. The friend who ended your 8-year friendship over WhatsApp. The flatmate who you gave without measure to who simply wasn’t able to give you the same back. They’re all going to teach you how you’re perceived, what you can give, who you are when you’re not reciprocated. Look closely. A little bit of truth about you — and them — is always on the other side of it.
Grief will hit you with an overwhelming shock in the coming years. You will routinely grieve versions of you who were a little more gullible or just more innocent, more reserved, even more quietly repressed. But repressing all that need to love and feel joy is self-betrayal. Befriend yourself. Befriend your need to feel and to touch and to be there. It’s one of your best, most defining qualities. Don’t resent it. Embrace it.
There will be things that make you exceptionally anxious; dating will be one of them. And you will meet guys who are, at first, enthusiastic and curious about you, and, with a little bit of time, gather enough information to determine they’re not interested in knowing you more. Don’t take that to heart. You’re not for everyone, and wanting yourself to become more mysterious or more easygoing is not going to play out like you think it will. Don’t be mysterious. Don’t wait to reply to a text. Don’t try to act distant. It’s not who you are — don’t sacrifice that.
You will soon come to understand that your ability to feel joy goes hand in hand with your ability to feel pain. The best moments of your life — so far — will be possible because you’ve been there for your lowest ones. The sudden heartbreak you felt in a train station. The grief of unexpectedly losing someone you love. The piercing joy of getting something you really, really wanted. The pain of imagining a conversation with your grandfather years after he’s passed. You will have to sit there and feel the range of it all. You can’t have the highs without the lows. And preserving yourself to a lukewarm middle won’t work; not for the kind of inner world you were born with.
You’re going to like some guys over the years. A couple of them will break your heart to different degrees. Let them break your heart. Let yourself admit you cared about them more than you wanted to. You can’t help yourself, and wanting to control how you feel will always be laughably fruitless. Your capacity to be sweet, to be curious, to be present for someone you’re interested in, is going to be appreciated one day. Don’t let the discourse fool you. Be more open about what you like. Say it more often. Not saying you like them won’t mean you won’t feel it. If you feel it, say it.
Don’t try to just go with the flow. You’re fucking AWFUL at going with the flow. You have limits. There’s things you don’t like. There will sometimes be things you don’t like that your friends love and that’s okay. It doesn’t make you into a difficult monster to opt out of things you don’t want to do. Don’t try to be easy and agreeable every second of every day. It harbors resentment, instead of joy and kindness. It doesn’t come from a place of love. It comes from a place of fear — of rejection, of feeling small, of missing out — don’t sacrifice yourself for it. Your friends will still love you if you decide going out once a month is more than enough. You’re not an asshole for not loving techno like you did when you were 18, at 26. Go to different parties. Dance in your living room. You’ll be happy you skipped plans you weren’t into (and so will your wallet).
Be more open about what you like. Say it more often. Not saying you like them won’t mean you won’t feel it. If you feel it, say it.
On that note, don’t go with the flow in dating, either. You’ve always known you wanted to be in a loving relationship with someone who’s gonna tell you what’s for dinner on Saturday night while your friends hit the club or a bar. Not saying so to people you date is a disservice, mostly to yourself. Build the courage to want what you want and say it. You’re going to date guys who went with the flow because you went with the flow; you’re going to date guys who were all over you one second, gone the next. Be honest from the get-go. Tell them what you’re looking for. Be okay with the fact that not everyone is looking for what you’re seeking. Enjoy their company anyway, savor the experience. Be okay with exploring dynamics and flings and even the odd one night stand. Learn about what you want and be sure of it. Don’t hide your desires in the hope someone’s going to look at you long enough to uncover them.
Don’t stress so much over work. Work is work. You deliver value, and you get value for it. Don’t get married to the idea of a traditional career. It’s not going to be traditional. You’ll see a few years down the line that you’re going to need breaks. You’re going to need weeks of rest. Sometimes you won’t have much work, sometimes it’s going to be very quiet. Who are you then? What are you like? Can you sit with the silence and invite it in? What’s your head like when there’s no emails to get to, no meetings to call in?
You’re going to be afraid of dreaming sometimes. You have a fear that you can’t want what you want because it’ll be taken away. Or that you shouldn’t want something at all, because what if you don’t get it? Tell that fear to go fuck itself. Regularly. You’re going to have to be ruthless about your happiness. You’re going to have to be persistent in what you want. You’re going to have to make things because you like to make them, and that’s going to take time. Respect this fact. Embrace it. Being a creative person is also about knowing when to give yourself space. Make yourself the space to dream. Allow yourself to want to become a columnist, to want to write books, to write shitty, corny (and horny) poetry, to play with fridge magnets, and create a feeling that tastes like the seasons. Allow yourself to be self-centered and feel vain and worthless and egotistical. Everyone who makes things feels that way. Art is inherently about the self. Nothing can be made without a reference to something else. (So art is centered around us, constantly, not just me or you, remember that).
Being true to yourself will be difficult sometimes. You’re going to be surrounded by people who want different things, but mostly similar things, and you’re going to hit a point where the things you thought you wanted, won’t be the same anymore, drastically. Don’t be afraid of taking a step somewhere different. You’re going to blossom. You’re going to become so much more confident of your space in the world. But first, you have to be true to yourself. Don’t force yourself into the shape of everyone around you. You don’t have to. You can make your own shape, and still succeed in the ways that matter to you.
You’re going to have to be ruthless about your happiness. You’re going to have to be persistent in what you want.
Your experiences aren’t unique. You’re not the only girl in this world who feels weird and heartbroken and unrequited. You’re not the only woman who’s going to immigrate across countries and deal with the immigration office. You’re not the only person who’s had a shit job. Embrace that. It’s a good thing. Your struggles aren’t unique and neither is your life; you're not wearing unique stripes. You’re part of the same thread as everyone around you, even if it’s in different ways. Talk to people. Write about it. Share it. Some people will feel less alone for it, and as a consequence, so will you.
Lastly, believe in your ability to feel so deeply. Don’t suffocate it or try to muffle it out. Believe in what your intuition is telling you. Believe in yourself enough to try something new, build something new, or go after something different. Just because you haven’t seen it yet, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Believe in your ability to alchemize loss and grief and joy and feeling into something that matters to you. Let that road shape your 20s and let it shape your 30s, and let it shape the rest of your life. It’s your gift. Don’t abandon it.
