A letter from Apr 23, 2025

Dear Future Me, Pass this on: I think I have evidence now that I'm someone worth liking. You're the only one who knows for sure, but I'm who you are to years of past versions of myself. And what I say to them is: Why didn't I like myself? They're way cooler than I am now. I should have liked myself then. I see the irony in that now, though. You see it even more than I do, I'm sure. I guess the only thing I can do is decide to like myself now. It's been happening, I guess, but pretty slowly. I liked myself enough to start doing the cool things I did. That must have taken some belief I was worth it. I dyed my hair, moved and moved back, cut my hair, decided what I'll be for some of the time when I grow up. Just because a lot of those decisions get reversed by the later me that comes into play now doesn't mean the littler me had the wrong idea, or that I should regret it. Everything got me here. I like it here, at least more than I did there. I have to like past me for getting me here. I have to trust that you'll like me for what I do now, whether you'd make the same choice or not. I don't know what you know. I never will, because knowing it will mean I've become you instead of me. So all I can do is try my best to choose us. Each person starts off responsible for one life: their own. I don't know if you'll wish I traveled more or less, studied more or less, saved money more or less, did more for my health or worried about it less, worked out in a certain way, ate this or that more, gave you greater or lesser chances of having biological kids. I'm guessing. I'm trying to choose us, the past people I was, the me I am now, the possibilities for who you are, who I will be. I'm tired of feeling selfish and even more tired of being it. Sometimes I will do things that are for me and not for you, and I'm sorry about that. But I forgive most of the times I've done that in the past, as I hope you've forgiven me. With a little examination of the patterns I'm building and the reasons why, maybe I'll at least move in the right direction. Maybe you're a little closer to where we want to be. Really, where you want to be— since when you read this, I'll be gone. A memory and a piece of you, just there to inform where you go now. You make the decisions, you are a person. Right now it's my turn. I will choose me sometimes and choose you sometimes and choose the even farther in the future us sometimes. I will choose the past and I will choose wrong and I will choose things nobody could ever know the rightness or wrongness of. But I'm choosing. That's a start, right? I hope you're doing well. I hope you don't regret what I'm doing right now. I am making choices, at least the small ones, getting closer to the bigger ones. My feet are in the water. I'm practicing how to swim. Maybe by the time I've gotten anywhere, I won't be me anymore. This whole time, I'm fading and shifting into someone new. Something binds us together at the core though, whether it's a soul or just shared memories. I am not you, but some of you is me. I love you. Please remember that. Right now our hair is blonde but only partly. You can probably check in old pictures if you forgot how it looks, I'll try to take some for you. I wonder what color your hair is. I'm sure it's a good one. -L P.S. And hey, thanks.