Dear 2014 me,

I’m writing to you 10 years in the future. I hope that you can try your best to approach the advice I am about to give you with an open mind. So many of the things that you are going through right now are things that I still remember, so please understand that I am approaching this with the deepest possible care for you. 

First and foremost, I want you to know that it’s okay to explore who you are. Whether it be for academics, your social life or more personal affairs, you will benefit in ways that you could not even imagine in your wildest dreams. Consider student government. Consider band. Consider asking her or him out. Over the past 10 years, one of the greatest lessons I have learned is that regretting what you never did (the panic over how things could’ve gone differently) feels orders of magnitude worse than whatever embarrassment or other forms of so-called failure you experience from what you actually end up doing.

Until recently, I did not try to understand my emotions as much as I should have. This is something that I hope that you can be better than me at. You stand to benefit so much from at least trying to understand yourself in a deeper, more introspective way. Try to ask yourself questions about why you get frustrated, confused, scared or start to feel inadequate. You don’t need to have an intricate action plan at all, but nonetheless, it’s good to give these things some serious thought. I cannot stress to you enough how much I wish I thought things through more. You’ll have crushes. You’ll stop being friends with people. You’ll make rash decisions. Please do your best to ask yourself the “Why?” questions throughout all of this. 

It’s about time that you start coming to terms with something that you’ve subconsciously repressed for years: your bisexuality. Please know that I hold absolutely nothing against you for not thinking about it in any significant way until your sophomore year in college. You did a good job in protecting yourself that way. However, I hope that you do your best to process this in a healthier and more proactive way. I really need you to know just how important genuine effort on that front will be to you.

It will help you heal, learn more about yourself and avoid making more of the mistakes that I have made over the past few years. There were times in which trying to figure something out about yourself, a particularly trauma-ridden part of yourself, caused you to not treat people in the ways that they deserved. I don’t want such heart-wrenching regrets following you for years to come.

It is a surreal experience when I realize that there are only six years of separation between you receiving this letter and me being accepted into Stanford. That may or may not end up being the case for you, and that’s okay. Regardless of how that plays out for you, I hope that you can treat yourself with the kindness, love, compassion and softness that you have always deserved. 

I want you to try your best to foster emotional, social, academic and professional boundaries for yourself. You stand to learn so much from exploring your sensitivities in ways that are actually good for you. It will be good to let yourself break and heal (not always a linear or simple process). Be gentle with yourself, please. I can say with absolute certainty that, having a long way to go myself in these areas, that extra bit of effort in self-love will put you on a path towards being a better friend, partner, brother, son, student and overall human being that needs to do better (even today).

I am absolutely certain that nothing that you have read is beyond you. You are capable. You are more than ready. I can already look back at you and think to myself: I’m proud of him for just making it to where he is.

With deep love,

2024 you