Wack Weekly Challenge: Week Seven

Faith Bugenhagen

To my younger/past self,

Hey what’s up? I should probably tell you that you’ll stop growing eventually and end up as a size 9 shoe, if you want to start investing now.

You’re probably wondering why I’m talking to you for once when all I do is talk about you to everyone else. Yeah, I talk about you. I talk about what you did, what you wore, who you liked when and why it was embarrassing, what you learned from things, and what your favorite color was. To anyone wondering it was pink, then yellow, then purple, then purple AND green, then MINT green, and then to realizing favorite colors are just something we have to baseline identify ourselves with when asked (it’s yellow again). The thing is, I seem obsessed with the past. I love nostalgia of my Disney channel childhood, genuine reflection on what moments ended up impacting other moments, and telling funny stories of cringe things I did in middle school. I talk about it too much, ask any of my friends. But the truth is past me, is that I seem obsessed with the past because I am more obsessed with the future. I have planned, day dreamed, and scenario-ized over 1,000 different futures for myself. You know this, because you have done the same thing for moments that have long past me now. Thinking about the potential future, giving ourselves a narrative - it’s so stupid of us! We have been disappointed a million times by our own expectations of how we thought we wanted things to go. I can’t tell you to stop daydreaming about the future, because I know it’s the only thing that gives you hope and keeps you strong. I can tell you why me now prefers to talk about the past. When I think or talk about the past, I can see why (certain) things happened the way they did. I can learn from mistakes or place my brain in a time where I had a lot less to be overwhelmed and sad about. Of course I was still overwhelmed and sad, just maybe less? All I want to type in this letter is that “it gets better.”

But does it? To a second grade me who sat on the swings crying with her sister and told her that sometimes she doesn’t want to live anymore, I wish I could give you a hug. I wish I could tell you that you’re going to get to go on so many fun field trips in the next 4 years, and that you’d still be best friends with Julia Baylor to this day. To an eighth grade me who sat on her floor trying not to live anymore, I wish I could give you a hug and also tell you to stop being so stupid and making your mom cry. That middle school was not defining of your life and that you’d stop trying so hard to impress close minded people soon enough and figure out your own interests and passions. To senior year me who thought going to college was going to solve all her problems academically and mentally. I want to laugh at you because you were so so wrong, but I’d also give you a hug. Life is so so hard, and I have no idea what “it gets better” is supposed to mean. A lot of things are better, a lot of things resolved, but a lot feels worse. I probably won’t end up exactly with any of the futures I’ve envisioned or planned for myself. It’s hard to admit that, but making a Pinterest board doesn’t guarantee life events. I just hope to be happy, or at least okay. So past me, thank you for doing really dumb things so I could learn from them. Thank you for doing really fun and cool things that I can look back on and be glad I was there for them. Thank you for making friends that I still have today, and thank you for letting go of the ones that I don’t need. Guess what? I’m crying! Yeah, we don’t stop doing that I’m sorry to say. I hope present me is subconsciously doing something to make future me proud even if I don’t recognize it in the now. I could honestly use a hug from future me right now, whatever she’s doing. Probably rewatching New Girl again.


Present me, procrastinating my finals in the midst of a Global Pandemic

Laura Philips

Dear January First,

The start of the new year and you have so much to look forward to.

New opportunities and experiences you never would've even imagined.

One thing you won't see coming is the crash of it all. It goes down so quickly and unexpectedly, so there's not much I can say to truly prepare you for it.

But I want you to keep this in mind:

Cherish every little moment you have. Every single one.

Because while the

people you want close are

furthest from you,

the memories of them

are a nice souvenir.

- Signed, May First.

Evonne J.

Hanna Marchesseault

Don't be a little bitch.

Leah Heath

Trust the process. Trust the growth. Trust the uncomfortable!

Kate Cunningham