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Hey Reader,

“Aaaaaauuuurrrrrghhhhhhh I feel so old,” laments my friend who is — and this is important — just turning 30.

I have a lot of friends who are younger than me — side-effect of being a) immature and b) obsessed with doing things like trapeze, pole, and gymnastics — and the number of times I feel like getting out my walking cane and giving them a good spanking…

Sheesh.

You’ve been alive for 3 decades. You’ve not been allowed to drink alcohol for 2 of them. You’ve only been driving for less than half your life. YOU ARE A FRESH FRESH BLADE OF GRASS.

It’s tempting to say, “HA! Wait until you’re in your 40s and you injure your stupid self getting out of bed!” but I don’t. Because I remember when I was in my teens/20s/30s and 40+-year-olds were SO OLD.

(Although — aside — when I was a teen, 40-yos WERE so old because they all dressed in beige and submitted to what people were supposed to do and now people in their 40s look pretty much like people in their 30s and that’s amazing)

So instead of berating them, instead I wish they’d write.

Don’t wait until you’ve got “enough experience”… you have enough now. A whole lifetime’s worth up to this point.

Every now and then I go back and read work I made 5 years ago, 10, 15. I look back at old journals — what I was thinking and feeling and happy or sad or worried about.

How I’ve changed. How the world has changed. What I’ve lost and also what I’ve gained.

Am I still worrying at the same things I was 5 years ago? Might be worth looking at that; at why I haven’t moved on.

What was I happy about then? Can I recapture that, or build on it?

How have I changed? How have I grown?

Last night I found a photograph of myself getting married for the first time. I was 20 years old. I look 16. I remember being so sure of what my future would be… and it turned out to be nothing like that. I wish I could tell that 20 yo that it would be great, then awful, but don’t worry because it’ll be great again and you’ll find who you are and make yourself proud.

Mostly I wish I’d written more back then, and saved it somewhere I could still find it.

There are a lot of reasons to write and not all of them for other people.

Sometimes it’s important to write just for ourselves.

Just to say, “Hey, I’m here. I matter. This is who I was and who I am. I wonder who I’ll be…”

It’s not always easy to write for ourselves, either. If you’d like to start, I have a 3-month coaching spot for the Summer open. Drop me a line if you’re interested in exploring — a book or a writing practice.

TTFN,

Vicky 🫡

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