Dear Young Eve by Deb Old Eve

Dear Eve at 12,
Your family is not as odd as you think they are (well, some of them are. But that’s not your problem). You’re doing fine. Your teeth will straighten out, you really do have good hair and your handwriting will improve (although in twenty years no one will write anything by hand anymore and it won’t matter).

Try not to worry. Trust me.

Dear Eve at 16,
Your family is as odd as you think they are. But that’s okay. Try paying attention in school, you really can learn some useful stuff. The math can be especially handy down the road when you go grocery shopping. You will not be cool just because you squeeze yourself into name brand jeans and an “alligator” sweater. You don’t have to dislike someone because of the music they like. Disco is a type of music; not a political statement. Listen to your instincts and never be afraid to speak up.

Try not to worry. Trust me.

Dear Eve at 20,
Alright with the fun already, could you maybe try to get to classes once in awhile? Relish this time. Okay, maybe a little less relishing and a bit more studying wouldn’t hurt. Don’t enter the wet T-Shirt contest. No … really … don’t.

Trust me.

Dear Eve at 24,
Stop trying to figure out who you are and just BE who you are. Everything you envision happening IS going to happen. And yes, it will all work out in the end. Be patient. Don’t say “yes” too soon. Definitely DON’T follow the hippie-guy to Montana. The one you’re waiting for is still out there and yes, he’s tall, Irish and has a red beard (don’t be fooled the first time you see him). He will open the door to everything you “see” happening but can’t quite imagine happening. Shaving your legs and armpits (or not shaving your legs and armpits, as the case may be) does NOT signify a political affiliation. Don’t let Suzy drive your Mustang. Hell, don’t buy the Mustang, I don’t care how adorable it is. It’s a lemon.

Trust yourself.

Love always,
~Deb Eve