Letters To Our Younger Selves

Guided by Grace: A Letter to My Younger Self

Dear little me,

One day, people won’t look at you and expect someone else. They won’t question if they’re talking to the right person, or pick up where they left off in a conversation you never had. Teachers won’t think you’re rude for not greeting them in the hallway if you don’t recognize them, and your identity won’t be tied to someone else’s. 

People will see you, and expect you as you are.

Growing up with an identical twin is all you’ve ever known, but I know you look at others and wish you didn’t have to share a room, clothes, and most of all, a face. 

I know that you wish you didn’t feel a need to be Laura’s opposite; how, if she develops a hobby, an interest, a favorite, you must be indifferent. You dress in sporty headbands and ponytails, play basketball, and choose bright green bands for your braces to combat how she wears her hair down, how she wears necklaces and bracelets, and how she likes the color light blue. 

At the very least, you’ll have different tastes in guys… sort of. I mean, you dated guys who seemed to be absolutely opposite in high school. Still, they both ended up cheating on y’all, and (spoiler alert), you got a salutatorian speech written about how sorry your ex was for breaking your heart. Great story, you’ll live it out later. 

I also know how anxious you are about not knowing what you want to do in life. You’re watching everyone around you figure it out, including Laura. And you’re stuck. Nothing seems to call out to you, but you can’t leave out any options either. 

But listen, you’re gonna figure it out, and it’s going to be such a weight off of your shoulders… with just two little tiny, little catches. 

For one, both you and Laura are going to develop kidney stones, because once again, you can’t ever have your own thing, even when it comes to health problems. (Joking, ish). Just enjoy life before you’re ever plagued with the knowledge and physical burden of what this chronic illness entails. I’ll give you a hint, though, it’s as painful as childbirth (because of course it is). 

Second, Dad’s gonna have a stroke. Or, really, what presents as a stroke but is really just the effects of a laced sleeping pill he picked up at a gas station, which really wasn’t the most brilliant move on his end. Keeping it brief, Mom is going to call you and Laura in her room to watch Dad while she calls 911, but Laura’s going to go off and pass out in y’all’s bathroom while you pass out in the hallway, both suffering from the effects of a vasovagal reaction. You’re gonna hit your chin on the ground so hard that it splits open, and Laura’s going to have a massive knot in the middle of her forehead. All three of you will then be transported to the hospital. 

DON’T WORRY. Dad’s alright and has since learned from his very poor decision-making. Laura never had any physical lasting effects, and you’ll have a permanent scar (which I would like to add that Mom said “at least it’s on the bottom of your chin so it won’t ruin your future wedding photos”, which you’ll find funny, I’m sure). 

I realize that I’m essentially pre-trauma dumping everything you’ll experience on you, but these combined events will lead you to your purpose, so there’s a bright side to this letter, I promise!

You’re gonna learn that you want to do pharmacy. You want to understand how such horrible drug interactions happen, and how other pharmaceuticals are used to manage pain. You’ll get a “big girl” job as a pharmacy technician at Publix (which you won’t know is a grocery store chain until you move to Nashville for college because you’ve never known anything other than HEB). Right now, you just applied for pharmacy school (a daunting process) and have your first interview in a week!

So Grace, I know this letter has been very cynical, but I can assure you — things do work out. And I know, what a cheesy thing to say coming from us, but there’s just no better way to put it. You will find your people. You will discover your God-given path. You will find who you are apart from your twin — and ultimately, you’ll realize she was never meant to be your rival, but one of your greatest friends. 

And through the chaos, God will guide your steps – through every twist of fate, every scar, every heavy moment. Remember, “trust in the lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6). 

To quote a professor from your future university, “to love a person is to love a process”. And you are a process that has been, and will continue to be, shrouded by love.

It is through love, self-compassion, and faith that you will find your voice — gentle, but unmistakably your own.