i’ve been reading the most amazing book edited by Ellyn Spragins, but the contents written by many famous, powerful and successful women of our time – ranging from former Secretary of State, to a cancer survivor. The pages within the 2 covers of the book are letters. Letters written by these powerful women, to their former selves when they were younger.
Is there one moment in your life that you could tell yourself “relax, it’ll be ok”, or “dont take that job”, or “dont stay with this guy, he’s wrong for you, you can do better, and you will do better. you just dont know it yet, but you will.” I believe that who we are today, is a result of the collection of the experiences we have had in our lives, and even the strongest of women, the most successful of women, the most impenetrable of women, also have their stories of hurt, pain, bad choices, moments where they thought it was over, and moments where they needed someone to say “you can do it!”.
Reading through these letters (I’m only 1/4 of the way through), they have touched me so much that I want to share with you one letter which has rung so loudly to me. It is a letter by Ann Curry (News Presenter of the NBC Today Show in the US), currently 47, she writes back to her 22 year old self. I hope you too can relate and be touched by her confidence, her resolve, her strength, and her vulnerability.
If you could write a letter to your younger self (no matter how old you are today), what would it say?
Hey there, Anner,
I’m watching you fend for yourself at your first job in a six-man newsroom in Medford, Oregon, population fifty thousand. Everyday that you walk into that smoke-filled all-male stronghold, you feel like it could be your last day on the job. You’re doing twice as many stories as your middle-ages colleagure, but failure seems to lurk just around the corner. One of these gentlemen even said it to your face: “You have no news judgment – and besides, you cant carry the camera.”
Oh yeah? Watch me, you thought, ever more ferocious in your determination. You feel energized knowing that your performance could pave the way – or close the door-for the women behind you. But there’s a profound fear underneath the bravado. Will you-the half-Japanese outsider who never fit in while growing up in all-white Ashland, Oregon – have to change some deep part of yourself to make it in this world? your heart is weighted down by the worry that you’ll never be seen for who you really are, that you’ll always be misunderstood.
The irony is that you, Anne, have struggled your whole life against being put in an easily categorized box. And now, the girl whose appearance always prompted questions like “What are you? Hispanic? Asian?” is thrusting herself into and industry where looks count for so much. The girl who’s happy in grungy flannel shirts and jeans has to learn how to pluck her eyebrows, put on makeup, and wear suits. You’re conforming to what people expect you to look like-but its scaring the heck out of you.
Think back. You’ve never bent to those kind of expectations before. Remember that you’r Japanese immigrant mother wanted so much for you to be pretty and popular that when you were in fifth grade, she hemmed your skirts to miniskirt length and bought you a pair of go-go boots. You wore the mini to school and ripped out the hem because you knew it didn’t matter if you were pretty or fit in. You wanted to be smart.
You were happy being a maverick. You were extremely opinionated, but you were also extremely nonjudgemental. No matter what anybody thought, if they truly felt it, it was okay with you. You refused to judge other people. But now you’re in the real world and the real world seems to have no hesitation about judging you on appearance, so you’re changing fast as you can. You’ve cut off your waist-length hair, gotten a perm, and you wear floppy bow ties to the station. You’re even cussing. No more “Horsefeathers!” or “heavens to Mergatroid!” You’re spewing real curse words to make sure these old guys dont feel threatened by having a woman in the newsroom. Is it surprising that you hardly recognize yourself?
You should undertand that being different is fantastic. In fact, rejoice in all those things that make you different. Ultimately, its not how you look or what groupo you’re in that will determine your success in the world. I think you can carve new territory, you can do something completely out of the box, and if it is an act of love and goodness, it will be completely embraced-as bizarre as that may seem.
If you can have faith in your real self, you’ll suffer less. You wont waste valuable time that could be spent on more important things. At forty-seven, I sometimes feel like a late bloomer. I feel it would have been possible to do much more, much sooner, if I hadnt been so worried. What I know now after the loos of my mother, my brother, and all the suffering I’ve covered as a news reporter is that there’s no time to waste. It’s time to be bold about who you really are.
With love, Ann.
Sorry for the longness of the post but I hope that you were touched by that letter. Go out and buy the book even. The other letters in the book are just as inspiring!
If I'd Known Then: Women in Their 20s and 30s Write Letters to Their Younger Selves
What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self
