Sunday, April 30, 2017

A letter to my 16-year old self

Dear Kezang,
You will be alive at 21. Chhime will still be your best friend. You’ll even have a male best friend. What you’ve always wanted. Mom, dad and Dawa will be fine. Dawa’s not a player anymore. Can you believe that?
I study interesting things. No, there is no Math. Or Chemistry, or Physics. I’m happier, less rules to follow, less pretence of respecting self-righteous elders. You’ll survive school.
Later when a teacher heartlessly snips off your hair at the morning assembly in front of the entire school, you will pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. You will smile through the whole day. I still smile so much. Even got some smile wrinkles. But once you reach home, you will turn the faucet in the bathroom on and cry, making sure mom doesn’t hear. She’s still more obsessed about my hair than I am!
Don’t cry. You will chop off your hair into a pixie-cut one year in to college anyway, and love it.
Mom and dad are still protective. But I’m making them learn to let go. I think it’s difficult for them. You will always be an obedient teenager, never causing trouble. Don’t obey so much. It’s okay to break their heart sometimes. You will prepare them to ultimately let go.
That first boyfriend who dumped you for a skinnier girl? You’ll find out he wasn’t your type anyway. You will be attracted to kinder, smarter, more unique people.
Another teacher will harshly scold you for always disturbing the class when you raise your hand and point out a mistake. It will break your heart. Don’t cry. You will go to a place where teachers appreciate being challenged. You will be happier.
Chhime will move out. It’s okay to miss her terribly and cry at night. Mom and dad will know even if you tell them that it’s a bad cold. Chhime will remain your best friend, and you will meet a new girl who will equally be in love with Edward Cullen.
Sometimes when I’m super bored at home, I read your diaries. It’s quite depressing. Don’t starve yourself. It’s not going to help. You’ll only end up binge eating and feeling even more miserable later. Don’t drink that filthy slimming tea. That’s not going to help either. You’re beautiful just the way you are. Don’t let one guy stomp on your self-esteem. It really isn’t worth it. But if you want, go for a run maybe. It’ll clear your head.
Don’t give up writing. I know that sometimes you will want to simply forget you have dreams, because they are that much hurtful. But you will write stories for newspapers and magazines. You will be more confident and assured about what you want to do. I have a looonngg way to go still, but I write better than you, and am proud of it.
  Remember all the nice little books about nice little girls you read while you were younger? They taught you to be kinder, more understanding, forgiving and generous. This will end up hurting you in the future. You will meet people (friends and guys) who will trample your heart and walk away. Don’t chase them. Be a bitch and fuck the fakers.
Your 21-year old self 

1 comment:

  1. A nice letter indeed. We share few same passions. I enjoyed this sis.
    And you must teach me to write like this. Hehe ��

    -Much regards!


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It's one of those hot, sky-blue days that taste of vanilla ice cream and summer and future, when your heart beats faster for no apparent reason, and when you're prepared to swear any oath that friendships never end.

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