{LINK UP} A Letter to Your 10 Year Old Self

{OR} I have no originality. 

So credit where credit is due, I totally stole this idea from SoulPancake (if you haven't checked these guys out, DO IT). I saw the video below and thought, what I wouldn't give to let Little Emily in on a few things, just to help her out over the next 15 years. Here's what I would tell the scruffy fifth grader while she was swinging alone on the playground if I had the chance:

Dear Emily

Hey. It’s me. Or you, I guess — right?

Anyway, it’s time for some Real Talk.

I know your clothes aren’t in style and your hair never looks brushed and you’re taller than everyone else (even the boys) and you’re just waiting desperately for this “awkward phase” to pass. Unfortunately, it’s just going to get worse, so here’s some advice that will make things a little easier:

Shower. In a couple of years, this will be very important and you’re going to hate it. I don’t know why, but you will. Do it anyway, or mom will yell at you.

Two words: hair gel. Just keep that in mind. Try it before you turn 16 and you won’t have to put your hair in a bun every day. You’ll like it. Also deodorant.

Don’t worry about the haters. Some people are gonna be jerks. Some people are even gonna give you a list of what’s wrong with you — no, like a literal list, on paper, with bulleted points.


Seriously, you’ll be better off with no friends then sticking with these jerks. And I CANNOT stress this enough: don’t let their list color your own internal dialogue. THEY ARE WRONG. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Later this year, when Lisa* tells you she’s not your best friend, don’t even worry about it. She seems popular now, but that’s only because she’s got big boobs — you know, the ones she’s always showing to everyone in the bathroom after recess and you’re like, “Why are we doing this?” (you’ll never figure that out, by the way.) Anyway, in a few years those big boobs will drop out of school and you’ll never see them, er, I mean her, again.

Oh, and when Jonathon* also tells you he’s not your best friend, don’t worry about it either. Actually, this is something that’s going to happen to you a lot, so maybe brace yourself now, okay? Just because you're not their "best" doesn't mean that you're not any good. 

As you get older, remember to hang on to those people in your life you can tell legitimately care about you, whether or not they’re “cool.” You’re not going to be cool, at least not in the traditional sense. But you ARE going to be weird, and that will serve you much better later in life, so just stop trying to chill with the cool kids — or rather, don’t start.

Finally, and this is the big one ...


“But what if I try it and I’m not good at it?” Then at least you’ll know. Failing means you at least had the guts to try in the first place. So fail with gusto until you succeed.

Oh, one more thing: Laugh.

Laugh like there’s no one around to hear you snort. 


*Names changed to protect my dignity. 

What would YOU tell the 10 Year Old you if you could? I'd LOVE to hear it. Given this is my first link up and the reach of this blog is TINY, I have low expectations that anyone will join me and write to themselves, but hey, I'M NOT AFRAID TO FAIL. Love ya, babies. 


  1. I love this. Your letter reminded me of some advice I got from a friend last week. "Some people are not worth being friends with." I wish I would have had that advice the last two decades.
    Also, weird is better than cool any day.