Dear SKR on May 21, 2006,

Today’s the day, baby! After weeks of packing and months of planning and years of romanticizing, you are finally leaving your charmed southern existence for a generous helping of Big Apple pie. Exciting, isn’t it? Nevermind that there’s no job or apartment or group of friends anxiously awaiting you – those are minor details! For now, take a deep breath, loosen the grip on your one-way ticket and let me shed a little light on this next chapter of your life.

You will never forget these first few days in New York. The hours spent lost in the enigmatic streets of lower Manhattan, exploring a new city, your new city, with boundless optimism – when the notion of possibility was enough, when the avenues didn’t have stories yet, when no one knew you had arrived. It is just you and the city getting to know each other, like a really spectacular month-long first date (in this metaphor, the aimless walking is equivalent to witty banter). Revel in these moments – they are perfect and pure and beautiful. (But stop listening to KT Tunstall’s “Suddenly I See” on repeat because you are not in an Anne Hathaway movie.)

I know you already feel like the luckiest girl in the world and, trust me, there is no better feeling than knowing you’re in the right place and headed for greatness, but there will be days – rare days – when that confidence will give way to wondering and worrying about how you’ll survive, thrive or recover. We’ll call those “character building” days, and they are reminders of the risks you have taken, your willingness to be lucky and your unrelenting moxie. New York is definitely a make it or break it town, but one of those is not in the cards.

You know the way you feel about the city this very moment? That indescribable, impassioned, overwhelming attachment to something you hardly know? That feeling will only grow and grow and grow… it will consume you, become you, you will feel it in your fingertips. People will find it odd you’re madly in love with 34 square miles of concrete, but those people do not know the New York you know, they have not felt it in every inch of their body. Your relationship with the city will be a powerful one, and an infinite source of inspiration — it is imperative you tap into it. There is no expiration date on creativity, but you must listen to the voice inside your head (and the people you love) begging you to write your story. Perhaps one day you can return the favor and inspire the city too.

On the airplane this morning, you wrote in your adorable leather-bound notebook that you are “so ready for this experience to change your life” and you “hope the city catches me if I fall” and that is just lovely. I’m so glad you decided to chronicle your unpoetic ramblings with a good ‘ol fashioned pen and paper, but let’s be realistic about your follow-through: waste no time signing up for a blog. You are more apt to keep up with your adventures this way and it allows the ones you left behind to do the same.

Once you start penning your city anecdotes online, you will want to write the way you’ve been writing your entire life. I need you to resist that urge. Experiment with words, read other blogs, don’t wait four years to start subscribing to the New Yorker. Eventually, you will find your voice and you’ll know it when you do. But do not be discouraged by looking back at what you’ve written – know that you will later find comfort in how far your prose has come. Blogging will become a valuable, practical, fruitful way for you to document the details, but don’t let it distract you from writing offline.  Perhaps even in that precious notebook.

I know you don’t know anyone right now, but you will. You will know incredible, beautiful people who will change your life and make your New York experience what it is. And once you have found this solid, trustworthy group of friends, do not stop putting effort into the people you continue to meet – you can never have too many people on your side in this unforgiving city. Friendships get more complicated as you get older, but the best part is learning who’s worth the fight. And holding onto those for dear life.

You are very lucky to land a paid editorial internship with a notable book publisher (especially since the editor offered you the job in the interview), and you are going to be awesome at this. But after that, you will detest your first big-girl job as an editorial assistant for a union newspaper. And that’s okay. The quirky, out-of-touch editor (who thinks you “goggle” things instead of “google” them) and the scandalous office politics alone will give you more fascinating material in three months than you can ever imagine. But you will forget the details if you don’t write them down as they happen. Also, spoiler alert: do not cry hysterically when you are let go (it was totally mutual) – this is a part of life and it will only open the door for bigger, better and more fitting opportunities.

That editorial assistant position you were offered next at the children’s book publisher? You’ll be a senior editor there some day, so stick it out – even when the workload seems impossible and you are tired of looking at Hannah Montana’s face. Your coworkers will become some of the people you value and trust the most. Lifelong friends, in fact. And you will learn that while you did not set out to edit and write children’s books for a living, you’re pretty damn great at it.

Whenever there is an opportunity at work, take it. And if it’s not directly given to you, ask for it. Never be scared to ask for something, especially when you deserve it. This is a good rule for city life too: plan ahead, speak up and be confident with your wants – whether it’s ordering a sandwich or asking for a raise. Being aggressive and assertive does not make you an asshole. It makes you a New Yorker. (Which makes you an asshole.)  

Upon arriving, it will be your first instinct to spend all of your money on “New York clothes.” For the love of God, anything you pick up at H&M this year, put it right back down. Get better at talking yourself out of that little black dress (you already have 17!) and the top you will wear exactly zero times.  Do not buy into the trends – keep it classic. You look good in classic! Besides, your money is better saved for experiences rather than disposable clothing. (Yes, taxis and alcohol count as experiences.)

You know that incredible book idea you’ve had in your head for years? The one with THE most perfect title? Start it. And if you don’t start it, know that five years from now, the pieces will finally fit and you’ll realize you just needed to live through a thousand New York nights to bring it all together.

I know it is hard to leave the party before it’s over (because you are the party and therefore it is never over), but just do it. It will save you hundreds of dollars, calories, hangovers and hot mess encounters (although, based on the stories you are still telling today, some of those were worth it). The Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) is a desperate feeling you’ll get every time you aren’t immersed in the endless possibilities of the night. It is natural and expected – you live in a sleepless, fast-paced, anything-can-happen city, but do not let that notion consume you. There’s nothing more exciting and intriguing than the potential of a New York night – not knowing where or how it will end or with who, but it’s okay to sit a few out. (Sometimes wondering what if? is far less painful anyway.) And, honestly, unless Ryan Gosling is waiting for you with his shirt off and a stiff drink with your name on it, you are probably not missing out.

Don’t believe yourself when you say things like, “I’m completely incapable of doing things in moderation.” You and I both know we’re capable of anything. You are an impetuous person who goes all in or doesn’t go at all – but the earlier you start finding happy mediums, the earlier you start finding happy.

Take pictures of everything. Learn to pose in a flattering, hand-on-hip-perfect-angle kind of way. And then use that sparingly before your 2,800 Facebook photos are identical. You will never be above the act of taking touristy shots of the Empire State Building or Central Park at dusk. Hard to believe, I know, since there is nothing more embarrassing to you right now than being perceived a tourist in your own city.

Do not join a gym. Trust me on this one. It will literally cost you $1000 a year to get on an elliptical machine four times. Running in Central Park or along the Hudson is free and therapeutic and wonderful. On a related note, listen to your mother when she encourages you to buy groceries. Repeatedly declaring, “Ordering delivery is so much cheaper!” does not make it true. (And do not eat that gyro from the Westside Diner. It will ruin several perfectly good days.)

Be kind to your electronics. Always check the backseat of a cab for your belongings – that is where they usually end up. Losing one iPhone is bound to happen. Losing several is a mental disorder, usually caused by alcohol. (But do not buy that retractable phone leash you saw on an infomercial. That is just embarrassing.)

Take those NYU writing classes as soon as possible.  Forfeit happy hour every now and then for a run or a writing session. Or both.  Never live in an apartment without rooftop access. Don’t be envious – there will always be someone smarter, prettier and funnier than you. (But that bitch is definitely not as awesome.)

I know you think Craigslist is great, as it has helped you land your first internship and a summer sublet in the East Village, but just be cautious with your future findings. When you meet the girl with the manic Pomeranian and the bad attitude, run. Run really fucking fast. When you see the fifth floor walk-up apartment in Midtown with the reasonable rent and the loft beds, take it, but know that the loft bed (of death) will be the source of many, many injuries. (The five flights of stairs will also be a burden, but your ass does not think so.) When you and your new best friend move to the Hell’s Kitchen apartment, know that your giant bedroom is not worth the nights you lie awake listening to the goddamn circus that is 9th Avenue. And when you see the gorgeous studio three blocks from work, well, you’ll know what to do.

Don’t be worried or hurt when your best friend, confidant and roommate of three years tells you she has to go live with a boy. It will be an unintentional catalyst for your decision to live alone. I know that sounds pretty scary right about now, but it will be one of the best and nicest things you could ever do for yourself. And especially your writing. (Also, you get to be a naked a lot more.)

Boys. Oh, boy. Where to even begin? You are already as cynical as they come (or as you like to call it “realistic”), and sadly, this city will only harden and harbor those feelings. After a few short months, you will feel as though you’ve met every guy in Manhattan and you will not be impressed. (You decide Boyhattan or Toolhattan or Douchehattan is more fitting because you have yet to meet anyone worthy of being called a man.) However, your theory that everyone is “an asshole until proven otherwise” is a terrible one. You will miss out on so many quality people this way. This will be a difficult lesson to learn – one you may still struggle with years down the road. But you are never allowed to ask yourself why you are still single as long as you stick by this philosophy.

Additionally, your lifelong motto that “Your twenties are solely for yourself – to discover who you are before anyone else does,” is a good one – one that will possibly land you in a happy, healthy relationship when you have successfully sewn all of your wild oats. But don’t practice this so much so that you are pegged the Eternally Single Girl. New York can’t be your boyfriend forever. Just know this (and pardon the clichés): there is someone out there for you. And he is kind and wonderful and thinks you’re the best thing to ever happen to him. And don’t be surprised if he is physically, emotionally or geographically not what you were expecting.

(Anyway, you have heard that the “love of your life” will be waiting for you once you stop looking and start pursuing your passion, focusing your talents and writing that book…)

But here’s a harsh reality: you are an aspiring writer who does more aspiring than writing. You will spend too much time writing about wanting to write and about the desire to be a great writer. You will read other writers your age and think, I can do better than that or I could never write that beautifully. And then you won’t even try. For the love of God, get off the Internet and write. I cannot stress it enough! Write whenever, wherever, whatever you can. It is the only way you will grow as a writer, and the longer you wait, the more the details – the details that make your writing so distinct – will begin to fade.

Unbelievably, I’ve barely brushed the surface of what’s to come for you in this crazy city, but I trust you’ll figure out the rest – one day, one word, one story, one avenue at a time. Five years from now, when people ask you, “Where did you grow up?” you will think twice about the answer because while your childhood was spent in Houston, Texas, you did a lot of growing up in New York City, too. This island is your home, your muse and your lifeline – it belongs to you and you belong to it. Never forget what you came here to do.

No matter how your future in New York unfolds, know that everything you do will lead you to stories. Stories you must write. There are no regrets if there’s a story to be told…

Love,
You at 27

PS - For the love of God, please don’t ever go to Duane Reade after happy hour and buy hair dye. IT NEVER ENDS WELL.