Dear 22-year-old Jill -
I love you, sweetie, but you can be ... well ... a tad critical. It's time we had a chat.
First off: You're lovely. Stop frowning when you look in the mirror, go put on a bikini, and enjoy it while you can. Your stomach isn't always going to look like that. Someday you will miss it.
Please do us both a favor and stop saying you don't know why anyone would buy pre-cut vegetables in plastic bags. You'll see.
Your tendency to kill plants does not mean you won't be a good mother. But having kids definitely won't make you a better gardener.
And while we're on the subject ... Yes, you will let your children eat that, they will behave that way in public, and it's not called "using the TV as a babysitter." It's called "taking a shower."
I'm sorry to say that you won't publish your first book by 25. Or by 35. You're not going to be the best or the worst at anything. But when you realize this, and let go, everything changes.
You know far less -- but can do far more -- than you think.
Your husband won't turn out to be quite as perfect as you expected. Then again, you won't be quite as perfect as you expected, either. And you will turn out to be perfect for each other -- just in ways you can't begin to imagine now.
You owe a lot of people a lot of apologies. Save us time and grief later -- start now.
All the worrying about Y2K will be wasted energy. In fact, all the worrying *period* will be wasted energy. Stop it. Take a walk instead.
If I could give you one thing, it would be the belief that you have, in this moment, everything you need. At every step, you are exactly where you need to be.
Enjoy the journey.
PS When the stock becomes available, buy "Google." Just trust me on this one.