Issue 53: What Would Your Future Self Tell You?
Plus: my worthiest mentions + lots o' links!
Last week I went through some old notes on my phone. I found few random email addresses from new acquaintances, a measurement for a piece of furniture, some grocery lists and recipes. One note annotated Chase’s fever over the course of several days, a voyeuristic glimpse into the anxious mind of a new mother.
Many notes were labeled “Thoughts”—stream-of-conscious missives that contained scattered ideas, quotes, poems. One line in particular caught my attention in its brevity: Write a letter *from* your future self.
At the start of this year, I got an email from my past self, one I had written at the beginning of last year—a write-a-letter-to-your-future-self prompt made realized—though I had no recollection of penning the letter. To be honest, it was a bit painful to read: my past self had so many hopes and desires that never came to fruition over the course of the year. That self couldn’t predict that 2024 would be a difficult one, mired with professional uncertainty, familial illness, emotional ups-and-downs. I felt like that former self was a fool, a presumptuous and overly-optimistic Pollyanna. I vowed to never write my future self a letter again.
But writing a letter from my future self to my current self was another story; she’d have the distance and wisdom a past self doesn’t. I could imagine my future self in my mind’s eye, decades from now, looking back at my current self.
As I started writing, a comfort washed over me. I wrote whatever came to me as I attempted to inhabit this future self. I didn’t question or dismiss anything, I just let it move through me onto the page. I did this a few times, on paper but also in the shower (where all the best ideas live!) and on a walk, cataloguing the words silently in my mind.
Every time, that future self was gentle, kind, encouraging. The minutiae of goals and achievements felt irrelevant from her bird’s eye view; those things would likely matter much less to my future self as she observed me in the thick of midlife and motherhood. She wasn’t there to devise plans or dream of accolades; she was there to soothe and reassure. She emphasized the strengths of my character, the unseen ways I was showing up for my kids every day. She told me how proud she was of me for trying over and over again, no matter how tired I was, or how difficult the season might seem. It felt almost like some other-worldly amalgamation of the many women in my life, cheering me on from mile markers down the road.
I thought I’d share this prompt in case you’re at a time in your life when you could use a pep talk or a bit of encouragement. We don’t often hear praise for the quiet, but important, ways we’re building our lives, but we can offer it to ourselves from this new perspective of future me. I know it sounds a little woo-woo, but sometimes we need those vibes, ya know? This can be adapted to whatever works for you—maybe it’s something you ponder on a run through the park, or maybe you scratch down just a sentence or two on a stray piece of paper, even a few words as they come to you out of the blue—then tuck them away as reminders when you need then most. Let future you be the champion of today you.
Worth Bopping: “Messy” by Lola Young
I live for the rare moments when I mention something I like to my 19- and 24-year-old nieces and they also like the same thing—an absolute high for this elder millennial!! So when I popped this song into the group chat and they agreed that it was a banger (definitely my words not theirs lol), I beamed with the fire of a thousand suns. Anyways, pop this one on repeat asap. (Here is the clean version but honestly is there anything that makes you feel more alive than singing fuck at the top of your lungs in the car with the window down on the first warm day of spring?!)
Worth Clicking: “Our Beautiful Life in the Wilderness Is Over. How Can I Do This to My Kids?” by
Heather Havrilesky’s latest for her column begins with a reader’s question about a very specific and singular situation, but follows with a response that could apply to anyone who has ever faced a transition that scared them, made them feel desperate with anxiety, or incited a feeling of deep loss and uncertainty. Havrilesky both validates those sentiments, and then encourages the question-asker (and her audience): what can be gained for our kids, and ourselves, when we venture into the unknown—without the presumption of loss, tragedy, sacrifice? She writes:
“We are here to experience everything this world has to offer, the good stuff and the bad stuff. We are not here to dodge and avoid and keep ourselves safe. We are here to be brave, to relish the day, to embrace our own flaws and the flaws of others, and to share our enthusiasm, share our curiosity, share what we know, where we’ve been, what we’ve experienced, and to share our love.”
—Heather Havrilesky
It’s a beautiful essay about how we brace our kids for the messiness of life (a recent musing of mine), while also nurturing their inherent resilience (as well as our own). It gave me a deep reassurance that turbulence isn’t always a bad thing, and that the greatest gifts might sometimes be those we never asked for.
Worth Reading: I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson
This warm cozy hug of a backlist book reminded me how wonderful and transportive YA books can be—there is something about a novel revolving around the magical and heartbreaking teenage years that somehow both connects me deeper to my child self and reaffirms the adult I have become. The book follows a pair of twins along two timelines: Noah, at age 13, as the two of them are about to experience a life-altering event, and Jude, at age 16, three years into the aftermath of the upheaval, when the siblings are barely speaking. It’s about loss, regret, art, love (romantic, familial, platonic), and much more. The writing will take your breath away—one of the most interesting narrative structures and voices on the page I think I’ve ever read. I loved it so much.
Related reading: Jandy Nelson released a new book last September called When the World Tips Over, another YA family drama about siblings in wine country, California (my own backyard!). It has similar rave reviews and was an instant bestseller; I’m going to try to tackle that one before the end of the year.
Worth Quoting: Sir William Osler, physician (from a book I’m reading called The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating)
“Think not of the amount to be accomplished, the difficulties to be overcome, of the end to be attained, but set earnestly at the little task at your elbow, letting that be sufficient for the day.”
Worth Noting: This Week’s Honorable Mentions
Wanting to brighten up my envelopes with this wavy washi tape.
Tossware’s reserve collection is inspiring me to make good on many self-promises of outdoor entertaining this summer.
Airmail has a random but very fun assortment of knick-knacks to peruse.
If you liked my Spring Book Preview for adults, you might also like this spring book preview of children’s books.
I’ve been enjoying this new-to-me newsletter, .
Intrigued by this warming honey cleanser.
Oh to own one of Jessie Kanelos Weiner’s 3D watercolor pieces!
I need a rainbow dress in my life this summer. (h/t and her exceptionally-curated rainbow-themed roundup)
’s beautiful art—especially the mixed media pieces in her Motherhood collection. (Archival, budget-friendly prints are available, too!)
Come on down to the White House Tesla Auto Mall! (God help us.)
I’m a Peloton gal, and I have been loving Christine D’Ercole’s rides—she always has something insightful to say, and turns my workout into a space for introspection (in a good way!). I recommend her recent 3/7 climb ride, and all of her reflection rides.
Adding a few more titles to my TBR now that the 2025 Women’s Prize for Fiction longlist and Nonfiction longlist have been announced.
I checked out the More Is More cookbook by Molly Baz from the library and flagged so many recipes…need to buy a copy for keeps.
This love letter by Morgan Harper Nichols that feels like it could be written from a future self.
Would you do me a favor and click the little heart at the bottom of this post? It *really* helps other readers find this newsletter. thank you, thank you! ❤️
Have a great week! See you Friday.
Another terrific issue! Thanks for the shout!!