To Me, From Me


I felt it would be fitting to make my first letter to myself— because the person who inspired this page probably doesn’t deserve it’s first post. But that’s besides the point.

This is a letter to Me, from Me. Past, Present, and Future versions.

Dear Ambika,

Today is a week from your 23rd rotation around the sun. I know you’re dreading it just as much as you’re welcoming it. Today is also the one-year anniversary of your car accident, and the anniversary of the day Devika was first admitted into her month-long stay at Loma Linda. In an umbrella view of your life, it’s the month your Amba Maa passed away last year, and the same month your 17 year old self had a breakdown in the bathroom next to your bedroom when you realized you weren’t going to be good enough for all the college applications you were filling out. It’s the month when you made the list of why and how badly you didn’t want to exist— the same list your Mom would find and be horrified by the next year and same month when she found it. Good, now that all the sad things have been addressed, let’s take it for what it was and proceed with the rest of this letter.

Those things happened, and a lot worse has happened before and since then— but you’re still here. You still wake up in the morning, and get dressed, and live through the day. The world goes on. You have your confetti moments sprinkled throughout the year— the ones that make you feel better about existing amidst all the terrible things happening in your personal and outer world. Remember Zion this Summer? When you got your period literally right before the Narrows Trail started, but still decided to go through with that and Observation Point in the same day? Remember how your friends stopped to help you every few minutes when you wanted to double over and cry because the Tylenol didn’t work on the cramps— and how none of the pain from that day mattered once you got to the top and saw the looks on everyone’s eyes when they watched the valley? And that one ~Thai Food spot you went to after? That was a good day. So was when you, Mom, and Devika walked around the Claremont Colleges during the sunset and played that Gilmore Girls Playlist you love so much. Or when Meera came for Devika’s Taylor Swift Concert, and we tried to go to the beach but ended up in Sketchtown. There were some gems this year for sure. Don’t forget those.

Anyways, the point of this is that you made it. Definitely not on your own, but you made it. Don’t forget the people who helped you make it this far. Even the ones whose chapters with you have ended. Whether or not you like it, and you probably don’t, because you suck at letting things go— they helped get you here. You owe them that gratitude.

You’re heading into another year, it seems. So here are some tips from current me/past you that might be helpful in making your Jordan year an actual “Jordan Year”. Make sure you make good use of your time and learn from the mistakes you’ve made and the mistakes you’ve seen. Especially with boys. Remember that you’re not going to get anywhere you want to be, by only looking out for yourself. Also, you can’t keep splitting bagels by taking the top part and giving someone the bottom part— because it’s messed up and selfish and no one likes the bottom part of a bagel anyway. And you’re not too important to text someone back or pick up the phone and call someone you haven’t talked to in a while. You have time to thank everyone who comments on your Instagram pictures individually too. Also, be more accountable for the trash things you do. You were a jerk to Hanan the night of the Basketball game and you should’ve done what she wanted and watched Halloween at home since you made her drive from Long Beach to miss the game. And you were a jerk to be so late to that same game, that the guys you were meeting there thought you stood them up and actually left. Don’t be doing that trash again. Stop being so late to everything, it’s not cute. Get a constructive concept of time and space this year, please— for your own sake.

It’s getting late, and this is a long enough letter now for me to be satisfied with ending it. Closing arguments— I’m happy you still exist. You should be too. If you’re not, at least be thankful for the people who’ve been in your life and the ones who’ve come in and out of it this year, because their chapters in your story is what makes it what it is. One bad month, or anniversary of a bad month, does NOT make a bad year. I love you. Your dog loves you, even though you don’t walk him. Stop crying over people who don’t deserve it. Especially boys who don’t deserve it. Schedule another breast exam, you’re due soon. Drink water, and hug your Mom and Devika.

Goodnight & sweet sleeps,  Ganges Gal.

With love,