You did it, baby girl!

Hey Baby C (Do I still go by that? Can I call you Baby C seeing as you are older than me?),

I'm not sure how to address this letter. I'm not sure I'm committed to the idea, but I'm doing it. How are you? No, how are you really? Don't say fine because you want the questions to stop or you don't want to think about it. I know you, intimately, so don't bullshit me. I have a lot of questions and they're all heavy. Either I'm doing well enough to answer them, or I haven't thought about them in so long that I need this letter to kick me in the ass. 

Do I ever figure it out? Or rather do I get off my ass and try to figure it out? I have this crippling fear of failure but I also struggle with wading through the overwhelming weight of procrastination. Have I sat back and let life pass me by? Depressed, miserable, and jaded working a job I hate, in a shared space I despise, holding on to tendrils of family relationships that no longer serve me. Have I gotten away from her? Am I still wavering between the ‘I should love her, so I'm gonna hurt’ or have I finally reached ‘the pain and bloodline aren't worth the suffering’?

I am so aware of my struggles now. I know what doesn't serve me, yet I am taking no steps to make changes or move forward. What am I so afraid of? Do I ever get past this fear to start living my life, as I like? Do I start taking steps to be me? Me without suppression, assimilation, or  

Have I figured out how to be happy? What I really need to know: is happiness ever attainable for me? I need to know one day I gt there. I am not suicidal, but I also cannot see continuing down this path to never reach peace. I can’t. I can’t live like that. 

I’m not completely hopeless. I know even if I wait the longest amount of time to open this I’ll be 36, exactly double my age now. I know I am impatient and too curious for my own good so I wonder how long I’ll make it before ripping this open? I’ll aim for 18 years but settle for 10 if need be. 

What is 25 like? Or 28? Or 30? Or 36 depending on when I remember/ find this letter and how long I am willing to quell my curiosity. What are the lessons I’ve learned since I left school and entered the world? What are lessons each age has taught me and if I haven’t made it to some of them yet, what do I hope to learn and accomplish?  

I can say now this is pretty cathartic. Letting out all the despair as I plan the rest of my life. I can now say I like this idea. I didn't believe it at the beginning but I’m fully invested now. Who knew Mr. Thompson was right? 

I spent so much time on the heavy I want to get into some memory tests. Can I remember all of my teachers from the past 4 years? What is the class song and flower? Where is the prom going to be held? What color is my dress? What is the date of graduation? I’ve gone over this information so much and seen these teachers every day for 4 years (in some capacity, this is a small school). I’m so invested in choosing a song, flower, and dress (Forever Young, Lily, Pink surprisingly). To date the most important decisions of my lifetime. They have to be perfect because these will be my life memories. All these memories lead up to the one date when my life as I know it will change. I will never come back to this place and that is unfathomable currently.

I’ve memorialized my fears for the future, should I say how the world is currently? Habits I have now? My current likes, wants, and needs to see how they change in 10-18 years? Well let’s begin: I am 18 years old. I have a 3.7 GPA, and I am currently writing this letter for Mr. Thompson’s 3rd period AP English class. We’ll submit them and he’ll return them to us sealed with our grades on a separate form. Once we have them we will then do with them what we want; hide them ourselves. I plan on bringing this with me to college so I do not leave it packed up in my house. Putting it someplace I think about a lot now and as time goes on I pass by less and less and then in 50 years as new owners are cleaning out the house they find it and get to experience my senior year despair.

I am currently part of the AP society readers; basically a reading after-school program for us nerds who want to read contemporary lit for free. I plan on attending Monroe State University. I haven’t picked a major but I’m hoping something comes to me soon. I spend most afternoons after school reading for society in the school library with the other members, my friends Davie, Megan, Curtis, and Pam. I spend weekends at the library reading too. I love books, I love being immersed in a story. I recently found a website where you can read stories on the computer. We do not have a computer but I can probably use the computers at college to keep reading online. It’s cool!

As nervous as I am about the future, I am excited to see new things. Leaving town, the state, and going somewhere new. Hopefully, I’ll get to see other parts of the country, other countries, places only the travel books have explored. I'm excited to be free from the thumb of those that only give me attention when they want to mold me into something I’ll never be and shun me when I’m not receptive to their vitriol. I just hope the future brings me peace. 

I’m going to end it here. From one Baby C to another (maybe), do it for me. I love you. 

She stares down at the now tear-ridden letter. Not so much because the letter is sad it’s just…. Emotional. She can see what she can now identify as anxiety-riddled throughout this letter. She can she the tenacious young fighter she had to be and know now that fighting spirit did save her. She was in so many situations where she had to rely on herself for so long that she did have to learn to put that fighter in her back pocket, close but not always needed. 

She did end up forgetting about the letter, in pieces. It would come to her mind randomly throughout the years: when she’s supposed to be cleaning the house, doing laundry, or really buckling down getting work done. But she cannot pinpoint anytime in the past few years she’s thought about it. But today on her 36th birthday an alarm went off on her phone, with detailed instructions on where to find said letter. And there it was, with all her other important documents, passport, birth certificate, and social security card, a little tattered and graying just resting at the bottom of the box. 

She gets and grabs a pen and paper, and sits back at her desk.

Hey Baby C (You can still call me that),

You did it, baby girl! You found happiness. It was so much work but you’ve made it to a place where your day-to-day brings peace. She pauses and lets that statement settle. Her eyes well, her breath shaky and she smiles as more tears litter the return letter.