You Haven’t Met Her Yet

We spend an awful lot of time asking teenagers what they want to be when they grow up. Maybe we should spend a little more time reminding them that they haven’t even met the person they’re going to become yet.

My daughter is a senior in high school.

And maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking so much lately about who I was at that age.

Not necessarily what I was doing.

Who I was.

Because at 16, 17, 18 years old, everybody wants to know what you're going to do with your life.

Where are you going to college?

What are you going to major in?

What kind of job do you want?

Where do you want to live?

Do you want to get married?

Do you want kids?

What's the plan?

We ask teenagers to make decisions about a life they haven't lived yet while they're still trying to figure out who the hell they are.

And somehow we expect them to have answers.

So I Asked the Women

Recently I asked a question on Facebook:

If the 16-year-old version of you met the woman you are today, what would surprise her most?

I wasn't exactly sure what people would say.

Maybe careers.

Where they lived.

Who they married.

Things they'd accomplished.

There was some of that.

But that wasn't what stood out to me.

Women talked about becoming stronger.

Becoming more vocal.

Learning not to let people run over them.

Learning to take care of themselves.

Setting boundaries.

Becoming more selective about who gets access to them.

Finding faith.

Finding independence.

Surviving things their 16-year-old selves couldn't possibly have imagined.

Some had lives that looked absolutely nothing like the ones they'd pictured.

And they were happy.

That got me.

Because I realized something.

They weren't nearly as surprised by what they became as they were by who they became.

You Don't Know Her Yet

I think about myself at 16.

There is so much she doesn't know.

There are people she hasn't met yet who will become incredibly important to her.

There are people she thinks are incredibly important who won't always be there.

There will be things she swears she'll never do.

She'll do some of them.

There will be things she's absolutely certain she wants.

She'll change her mind.

More than once.

There will be heartbreak she doesn't see coming.

There will also be joy she couldn't possibly plan for.

She'll screw things up.

She'll start over.

She'll learn things the hard way that somebody probably tried to tell her the easy way.

She'll become good at things she hasn't even tried yet.

She'll survive days she would never voluntarily choose to live through.

And somewhere in all of that...

she'll become me.

Not the version of me she would've planned.

Not necessarily the version she would've expected.

Me.

Maybe We're Asking the Wrong Question

That's what has been on my mind with my own daughter getting ready to graduate.

Of course I want her to think about what's next.

There are decisions to make.

There are responsibilities.

There is a whole big world waiting for her.

But I don't want her to feel like she has to have her entire life figured out just because somebody hands her a diploma.

Because I know something now that I couldn't possibly have understood then:

The plan is going to change.

And so are you.

Maybe instead of constantly asking young women:

“What do you want to be?”

we should occasionally tell them:

You haven't met her yet.

The woman you're going to be at 27.

At 37.

At 47.

You don't know what she's going to love.

You don't know what she's going to walk away from.

You don't know what she'll tolerate.

Or what she'll finally decide she's had enough of.

You don't know what she's going to be really damn good at.

You don't know what she's going to survive.

You don't know what she's going to build.

And you definitely don't know everything she's going to change her mind about.

I Wouldn't Tell Her Too Much

People love asking:

“If you could go back, what would you tell your younger self?”

I've thought about that too.

And I'm not sure I'd tell her very much.

Because some things she needs to learn herself.

Some mistakes are going to teach her.

Some heartbreak is going to change her.

Some wrong turns are eventually going to put her exactly where she needs to be.

I might tell her not to be in such a damn hurry.

I might tell her that very few things are as permanent as they feel when you're 16.

I might tell her that she doesn't have to make herself smaller to make somebody else comfortable.

And I'd probably tell her that she's going to be okay.

Not because everything is going to be okay.

It isn't.

There will be some hard shit.

I'd tell her she's going to be okay because eventually she'll learn that those are two completely different things.

One Day You'll Meet Her

Maybe that's what I'd tell every girl standing at the edge of adulthood.

Make your plans.

Dream big.

Change your mind.

Take the opportunity.

Make some mistakes.

Learn something.

Start over if you need to.

But don't panic because you don't know exactly who you're going to be.

You're not supposed to know yet.

You haven't met her.

And if the women who answered my question taught me anything, it's that there's a pretty good chance the woman you eventually become is going to surprise the hell out of you.

Maybe she'll be stronger than you thought.

Maybe she'll finally learn to speak up.

Maybe she'll stop caring about some of the things that consume you right now.

Maybe she'll build a life that looks nothing like the one you're currently imagining.

Maybe she'll go through things you wish she never had to.

Maybe she'll become someone you're really damn proud of.

You don't know yet.

You haven't met her.

Love, Bawsey