A letter to the girl I once was, from the girl she's now become.

Hi, there. 

Me again. 

Checking up on you.

Dear you. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen year old you (or, me, rather):

Stop trying to fix everyone's problems. People aren't fixable. Fix yourself. That's your job. You're going to get into a nasty habit of being okay with everyone's problems and trying to be the mediator in it all; you're going to try to play the saint one too many times, and I'm trying to help you out by telling you it never works. I have pulled that trick from my sleeves too many times to count on two hands and guess what... I've got nothing to show for it. Listen, you're great. You're helpful, sweet, naïve and innocent. Stay that way, but don't let anyone walk all over you. And hey. If you want to quit your job, quit! It'll make you feel liberated for a little while and you won't miss it for at least a year. If you want to kiss boys, do it. If you don't, don't. But don't not do it because you're scared. Being scared isn't an excuse; it's a cop out. Don't be the girl who cops out. You're better than that. You're better than cheap trash-talk and boring books. Don't give into either of them. Judge a book by its cover. That's the human way. Let boys tell you when you look stunning. Let them use adjectives you've only read on the pages of your novels and make them laugh. Believe yourself and talk to whomever you choose. If you've got something to say to someone, scream it! Okay, not if it's like, something little... but if it's big? Like big, wonderful could-be-somethings, say them! Make those somethings your things and don't be scared.

Did you get that last one? Don't be scared.