Dear young Caitlynn, 

This microcosm that we call Westview feels so big right now, yet you steadfastly, foolishly hope to conquer all. With this unearned arrogance in an unfamiliar environment, you often let your ambition leap higher than your fingers can grasp, causing you to tumble with outstretched arms. For now, you believe that high school is an insufferable means to an end. You live more in your head than in the world around you. You’re kind of a bummer to be around: that doesn’t completely change. 

I wish I could tell you to stop, to slow down, to give yourself some grace, to breathe, to live, to love. Nothing is truly “that deep,” young Caitlynn. Nothing is worth your life: nothing. Life goes on and it can be so precious if you just stick it out and wait—but, oh, how you refuse to wait. Whether it be your anxiety pulling you by the reins or an unruly ambition that can’t be tamed, nothing on this Earth can stop you, except for yourself. 

After all, you are a series of self-sabotaging paradoxes that even I have yet to resolve. You’re insecure but too confident. You can be brilliant but so stupid. You can be so loving but so hateful. I haven’t yet decided if this is hormones or your nature, but I think your self-awareness and desire to be better will allow you to rise above either.

Considering the contents of this letter, I realize that it’s ironic how harsh I’m being on you as a self-proclaimed mental health advocate. My feelings about you are muddled by love and hate. Your naivety, your curiosity, and your ambition made me who I am. At the same time, your mistakes are ones that you have not had to suffer the harsh consequences of; I have. But there have also been silver linings. 

You will find that, at the end of the day, you can choose your family and the people that surround you. You can choose a school mom, dad, aunt, uncle, and sister; a rag-tag bunch of journalists; and you can heal relationships you’ve hurt with your carelessness and selfishness.  

Regardless of what I say, how emphatically I say it, or which sage advice I decide to give you today, I also know you, Caitlynn. You don’t listen to anybody’s advice, so all of these things I desperately want to remind you of might fall on deaf ears. 

For that reason, if I could do it again, I would still want you to fall, so once you do, you can get up knowing you’re stronger for it and stop being so stupid. You can have a greater sense of empathy for others. You can aspire for something greater than computer science.  

We can do hard things, Caitlynn, but we can’t do it alone. Don’t forget that. 

Love,

Old Caitlynn