Dear Me

A letter to the Melody from the end of the last decade, at age thirteen/fourteen.

Dear Younger Me,

Hello.  This is Older You, writing to you from the future.  It is March 2016.  I've been thinking about you a lot lately and kind of just wanted to tell you some news that might be pleasing to you.

First, however, I must confess to not being in the exact spot in life that you thought I would be at this point in time.  But I must also confess to being completely okay with that.  And it's not that I've changed, because in essentials, I believe I am very much what I ever was.  (...hang on for about a year and then you'll know that that's a tweaked quote from the best novel in the universe.)

But things have shifted.  Instead of graduating with a BA in Elementary Education this May, I am actually only now really getting into this college thing.  Yeah, yeah, I know. But I've done cool things! I promise! And I work in a library, like you've always wanted to, if that's any comfort.  (Also it's great. Totally recommend it.  And volunteering at the library is a great way to get started. Good choice. Yes. Do it.)



This letter is supposed to be about the future though. The future for both of us, not my past/your future or past for both of us... yeah okay this is getting weird. Moving on!

I know you think that it would be amazing and scary and wonderful and something of a pipe dream to travel to unknown places in the east/south/somewhere far away and go to a huge Christian university.   Because just... think of all the different and interesting people around your age you would meet, and... and stuff. And the classes you could take without having to worry about them not meeting with your standards.  But that's entirely impractical, of course; even visiting one is entirely impractical, because why spend the money to get all the way there just for a visit?

Welllll.

Bob Jones University has a College Up Close event several times a year, where you get to spend two nights in the dorms and kind of experience college life.

So it doesn't look like this anymore, but it's a cool picture, okay?

Sounds fun, right?  Well, it just so happens that they offer a rebate to anyone who is flying there from somewhere west of the Mississippi.  And, surprise, I meet that requirement.  Yeah, but that doesn't pay for the whole ticket, only about half... wellll, it also just so happens that one of your sisters lives in an adjoining state over there in the southeast and can come and pick you up afterwards and then you'll get to visit with her and her adorable children TOO.  So two cool things for the price of HALF.

So, although the path I'm taking right now seems likely to be continuing along at home, working at a library and earning a certificate in Office Administration, for this event I am not going to worry about being realistic. Though there is little chance that I will ever really attend this college (and if I even thought about doing that, I would be thinking more short term, like, one school year), I'm taking up temporary residence in the realm of What-If, and am going to make the most of the experience.  If money wasn't an object, if career future didn't have to be considered, what might I do?

Adventure is OUT there.  I'm going to this place where I know literally no one, and for some reason no matter how hard I try, I keep feeling more excited than scared.  It's going to be new, and different, and interesting, and hopefully lots of fun.  (And I've traveled by myself before so this shouldn't be too hard.)  I've lots the sense of glamour I used to see when I thought of college, I know what it really is, and yet this idea is still thrilling to me.  I guess a piece of that curiosity still remains.

A BJU production of Great Expectations. What fun! 

Also they just did S&S... I'm barely missing it. Very sad about that.

I know that this whole trip is something you would dream about, and it feels amazing to make a dream come true.  It fills me with excitement to think I'm actually doing one of those intangible hazy things I used to stare out the window (over my irksome Saxon math) and imagine.  And what's more, I get to tap into what it would be like if I could major in Voice Performance and/or Theatre Arts. Because since we're doing what-if's, we're going to be frivolous.  Frivolity is essential.  (You'll get that quote too, in a few more years.  Well, like four or five maybe.)

So.  Dream big, Melody.  It can't hurt.  (One tip though: an aspiration is not the same as a set-in-stone plan, and sometimes, it's actually okay to change your mind.)

Love,
Older Me