Dear Younger Indah

Photography Credit: Ilsa Wynne-Hoelscher Kidd

Over the years, I have found many notes from you. In numerous journals, scratched onto loose paper and littered in books. These notes marked us at certain ages. Detailing what we cared about, what we didn’t and most importantly what we never wanted to forget. You would hate to know it has been a while since I have thought of you. So in the form of your love language, here are some words.  

• You are my greatest love and biggest critic and that duality is one we will always hold and that is okay. It is also your ability to see two sides. But don’t get snagged in the black and white.

• Writing this at 26, the candles are on, there is a glass of red next to the bed and my dog is curled at my feet. I mention this as proof that you will not lose the ability to find joy in the everyday and romanticize the small things. Your friends will love you for it. 

• I know you think alot about the ‘if’s’. If you will be beautiful, if you will be famous and if you will one day have a great love. Two of those things will come to be and the other, you will grow out of wanting. 

• Everyone who you love is alive and almost all of them are at arm’s length. When this changes it’s going to feel like your feet are digging into the sand as a wave rips past you. Despite this, you are more capable at adapting than you know. Loss will teach you more about life. A bittersweet irony. You are going to feel grateful for keeping journals and asking the hard questions. 

• Your brothers are still your best friends at 26, they come over and crawl into your bed when you’re crying and talk excitedly about being uncles to your children. Mum and Dads home is still the softest place to land. The older you get, the more you will notice their traits in you and smile. 

• The age you are now is comfortable but it can’t be forever. Trust you’ll know what to do when moments propel you into wilder and wiser versions of yourself. Growing up hurts but it can also be as enjoyable and easy as sinking into a warm bath.

I hope this letter has acted as an invitation to go easy, to open yourself up and to speak a little kinder where you can. Go lie out on the trampoline at night, stare into the stars and take a deep breath. Nothing else matters, you will see.