Dearest 20-year-old Tyece, 

 I read a quote today and it reminded me of you. It said “You enter your twenties with all of these convictions and lose them all by the time you’re 23. 24 if you were raised right. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it feels good to surprise yourself.” These words will never prove to be more true than in your own life.   

Happy birthday. You’re standing in a tiny dorm room fidgeting with the red dress you bought from Forever 21 this afternoon. You and your friends promise that this year, you’ll be on time for your Benihana reservation. You are 20. You do not feel happy or sad but you always enjoy your birthdays. You’ve bemoaned this age because it’s only a visceral sign that you are still 365 days away from legal and unlimited access to an alcohol-soaked adulthood. Nonetheless, you are 20, dammit. Two zero. No longer attached to teenage life. Congratulations. 

 I am not here to shit on your parade. Instead, I am here to assure you that the Thought Catalog quote is true. You will surprise yourself. In the next few years as you creep toward the milestone of mid-twenties, you will think and feel and do things that right now you are unwaveringly convinced you will not. You’ll tell everyone you would never cut your hair and then one scorching hot summer day, you’ll find yourself in a Texas hair salon getting it chopped off. You are persuaded you’ll never be friends with your best friend’s boyfriend and one day, you’ll thank him for letting you sleep on his couch after a few of margaritas. You believe you are not the kind of girl who would get over-the-edge drunk or host a one night stand or cry in the middle of the office and I am too proud to say that you will do all of the above. 

Right now, you are so sure of yourself in the same way a tiny toddler is sure they can reach the cookie jar. Boisterous and confident and so damn naive. You know yourself. But, so many of the elements of yourself that you’re omniscient about will only become transient. You see yourself as a a hardass destined to run shit. And, well, you are. I still can’t dispute that. But, as you depart the collegiate microcosm and build a life without a preset path, you’ll learn the hardass is not your core.   

You’ll realize that you are fragile and sensitive and emotional. You’ll cry listening to ” one afternoon on the radio and you’ll sob another day when you get home from work and see your neighbor being carried out of his apartment on a stretcher. You’ll realize you are fun-loving and relaxed. You’ll be really flattered when your coworkers compliment you on your laugh. You’ll grow to love that laugh and how it fills up the stony office. You’ll realize you are conflicted and confused. You’ll learn how hard it is to walk away from people, even those who wrong you or fuck up or rope you into the knots of their life. Right now, you think people who can’t unyieldingly walk away are dumb and lost and insecure. But, you’ll realize they are just people and you will be one of them.

You’ll realize the hardass is not at all your core but rather your core is an ever-evolving array of emotions. Your core gives yourself permission to be happy some days and sad some days and subdued other days. Your core relies on your outer tribe and your inner scribe. Your core questions and rethinks and comes to ephemeral conclusions. But, it is still your core.  

So, do not remain so convinced of so many things. Surprise yourself. It will be much more fun that way.

 Xoxo,

Tyece