You don't have to take my word for it.

Dear Rachel of February 21, 2011,

Today, you sat down at your desk after a lovely Presidents Day and started a blog. I'm coming at you from 5 years in the future to tell you that you did a good thing today. That moment you hit Publish actually probably changed your life.

I know that you're wondering what's going to happen to you this summer. It's going to be better than you could have dreamed of, and you'll come out of it a new woman. Listen, give it time. You're going to make more friends and be more popular and feel more love than you can imagine. You're going to make up silly songs, go to dinner, climb mountains, go swimming, and a hundred other great things.

You're going to write things that people will like. Sometimes even strangers. That's important. 

You're going to cry and go down roads you never dreamed of. They're not the wrong road, as long as you keep walking.

I've been thinking about you a lot lately. You, in particular. The Rachel at this moment: February 21, 2011. The things you hope for are not going to happen. I can't stress that enough. The things you hope for are not going to happen. Other things are going to happen. I've been through what you're going through, so I can tell you that.

I envy you, in a way. You're thinner, you're in a history of jazz class, and your questions are simpler to answer. But I think if you got to know me, you'd envy me too. You're so different from me, in a way. I think what you have now is right for you, and what I have now is right for me. 

2 Pieces of Advice:

1. Be okay with not knowing. Don't scramble so desperately to be sure. Be so okay with it that not knowing can never trip you.

2. Be more alive. Leave your house. Being afraid is going to ruin your life more than the things you're afraid of.

I know you don't like taking or giving advice. That much hasn't changed. So I understand. You don't have to take my word for it.

Love,

Rachel of February 21, 2016