Letter to my Twenty-Three-Year-Old Self

When I was twenty-three, I wrote a letter to my eighteen-year-old self. I'm writing a letter to my twenty-three-year-old self now.


Dear Carla,


- Go to law school. NOW. Don't waste time. You've wasted three years already. You don't need to waste two more. You don't need to stay longer in a job you don't actually like.
- All the luho that you think you can't live without--you don't actually need them. You will do fine without them.
- Write and capture your memories. As much as you can. Because five years from now, all you will have is a vague recollection of everything.
- When L asks you if you love him, don't deny it, because it will be the first and only time he will ask. Say, "Yes!" or say, "Absolutely!" or say, "Forever!" even if you know it isn't true. But don't let that moment pass you by, because it will never happen again.
- Never forget that lots of people will come and go. There will be those who will change your life, and they might be gone just as quickly as they arrived, and don't hate them for that. Not all friendships and relationships are made to last forever. What is important is that they touched your life, inspired you, and allowed you to look at the world through their eyes.