Last night I discovered this charming book called Dear Me: A Letter to My Sixteen-Year-Old Self by Joseph Galliano. The book features letters by 75 people of various fame to their younger selves. Included are notes from folks like Bill T. Jones, John Waters, Erykah Badu, Alan Rickman and Daily Show correspondent Aasif Mandvi, who tells his teenage self "It is that very foreigness, that outsiderness, that feeling of being 'other' that is your power, and your mutability is the gift – use them both!" (The Indian-born Mandvi's family immigrated to England and, eventually, the United States, during his youth.)
When I heard Galliano interviewed on the radio last night, I knew this book would be on my to-read list. Since turning 40, I have, predictably, pondered the many things I would do differently if do-overs were possible. I am not the first person to wish that my young self had been possessed of even half my middle-aged self's wisdom, confidence and self regard. Such is life, though.
Truth be told, there aren't a ton of things I'd change about my life until now, because I believe strongly that every bump and triumph made me the woman I am today--and I'm not so bad, really. But there are a few things I might tell 16-year-old Tami:
Dear Tammy,
I know you're busy listening to the fruits of Duran Duran members' side projects, but may I have a minute? (By the way, enjoy that Live Aid performance because the band is breaking up.)
I just want to say--You're okay.
I know you're angsting about a lot of stuff right now, but, trust me, little of it will matter later on. It will not matter that you are bookish and listen to strange music imports and are maybe a little geeky. Being a smarty pants is actually valuable outside of high school. And you are so much cooler than you know. Don't spend so much time trying to fit in. Do you, girl. You is pretty awesome.
There is nothing wrong with your body either. You should definitely start exercising more. It's a hard habit to start when you get older. I know you think you're not the athletic type, but you're going to run a 5K one day. Yeah, I said run...and 5K! You should also realize that you are an emotional eater. Work on that. But don't punish yourself. And forget about all those diet schemes you'll be tempted to try over the years. They won't improve your health or life--quite the opposite, actually. You're gorgeous as you are--thick thighs, wide hips and flattish booty be damned. One day you'll agree with me...and so will a bunch of other people.
Don't worry about boys--men either. They will come...and go. And then a really good one will stay. He's really kind and funny and CUTE. I won't tell you too much. It will ruin the surprise, but no, he does not look like Nick Rhodes or George Michael. Spend less time worrying about noncommittal boyfriends. Stop trying to be "chosen" and don't think of changing to better attract the opposite sex. Also, don't listen to anyone who tries to make you feel unlovable for being a black woman, or successful, or a successful black women. You're special. Spend time with people who realize that. Oh, and the circumstances of your "first time" is totally one of those things that won't matter much later.
You will enjoy marriage. You will enjoy being single, too. Make the most of it. Travel more. (But avoid the Motel 6 in Tucson, AZ. I know you and your girlfriends are trying to vacation on the cheap, but you will not believe the size and number of the roaches you discover in that room.)
Save your money and pay your bills on time. That job at the PR agency will become soul destroying. You'll find other jobs that you enjoy, but you can kiss those big bonuses and that super dental insurance goodbye. Try not to fritter your checks away on clothes, eating out and CDs from the Virgin Megastore. (CDs...Compact di...Never mind. You'll see. Just know that all those cassette tapes you own are going to obsolete in less than five years.)
It's going to take you a while to outgrow the oldest kid syndrome where you have to please everyone and do what's expected of you. As a result, your life will turn out more conventionally than you dreamed. But it's a good life. You should have more adventures, though. You know how you want to join the Peace Corp? Do that. Or something else. Just do something unexpected. You don't have to settle down into black middle classness so soon. And it will be harder to do the adventurous stuff later when you have a mortgage and other responsibilities.
Spend more time with your grandparents. And ask them about their lives. You will miss them terribly when they are gone. You will wish you had listened more. And you will have endless things you want to ask and say, but it will be too late.
Despite what you think, your parents know more than you do.
That's it. Go back to your music. And your book. I know you are reading a book. You're always reading something. Enjoy the next couple decades. You can't imagine how quickly they will pass.
I love you,
Tami
Hear author Joseph Galliano reading his letter above. What would you say to your 16-year-old self?
P.S. You will soon begin spelling your name "Tami," all the better to adorn your signature with hearts and smiley faces over the "i." Fair enough. But know that this move is a big-time teenage girl cliche. You will feel silly about it later and, after some 20 years, your mother still will not let you forget that you are spelling your nickname the "wrong way."
