So I’ve got some good news and bad news. The bad news is that almost 10 years from when you graduate, Calabasas High School will finally do West Side Story. In that new theatre that was supposed to be ready for you and your friends right now. And it’s gonna be a damn good show. Yeah. Curse if you need to. Be jealous. Cause it’s awesome.
The good news is that I saw it last night, 10 years in the future (you’re 26 now – crazy, right?), and it prompted me to write this note.
I miss you, Katie. And I feel myself coming back to you, full force. Since I hit the pre-quarter-life mark a couple years ago, it’s been like a homecoming. I don’t know why I am just writing about it now, but I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I enjoy who you are. You are silly, you are gracious, you are sexy (I know you don’t want to, but OWN IT!), you are thoughtful, you are flirty and fun and insightful and honest. You hold your own in a crowd, and you take immense pride in being a leader. I know you feel selfish admitting that last part, because you are always so wonderful at pointing out everyone else’s strengths before you even hint at your own. Keep that part of you – but be ok admitting to yourself that you thrive in roles of leadership. That’s not being full of it. It’s not vanity or pretentiousness. It is being grateful for the gifts you have been given and using them, for if you do not they will be lost forever to the world.
Katie, I need to tell you something that you might not be able to understand yet. I know what you think. You will never be one of those people who identifies with what you’re so often advised; “If you find something else you love, do that.” But I want you to stay open. Nothing will ever be as safe for you as it is now. I want you to know this, recognize this. Continue reading