I write notes to myself all the time. It’s how we keep track of things in our lives. Important things. Mundane things. The best things. Whether we do it digitally through our various note-taking apps or physically whether by sticky note or notebook or even on our own skin—creating notes and leaving notes are two of the simplest ways in which we communicate.
A note doesn’t have to include text either. A note can be an image that reminds you of something important. Or maybe it’s a doodle that isn’t that important; maybe you drew something on the corner of a page just to forget about it later just pass time while doing something else. A tattoo for something more permanent. It can mean everything and nothing all at once.
I find joy in that though, no matter the reason. Writing notes. Doodling. Leaving a mark somewhere, somehow, at some point in time.
It means that you were here. And that matters so much.
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I was here.
I see parts of myself scattered across the photos I’ve taken. The friends I’ve made. The places I’ve been. I think we leave a bit of ourselves behind in all the relationships we form, but to write it like that is so morose. I don’t think it makes us lesser in that a part of us is gone forever, but rather that we are memorialized in these moments.
I was here—I was there, at a point, where I hadn’t even begun law school.
Now, I am here. Writing this on the eve of my swearing-in as an attorney. It has been an incredibly hard and arduous journey—not one that I would wish upon anybody else.
I think I’m at a weird crossroads in my life where I feel like I’ve reached one of those big milestone moments, but I am terrified more than anything else. Happy, sure. But I think the fear is overshadowing a lot of that happiness, so in writing this note to myself I am hopeful that I can dispel some of that fear while also remembering that this was a moment in my life to remember. I was here. I felt fear because change is always frightening, but without change we cannot grow and attain the goals that we had all along.
Look, I say to myself now. Look at how far you’ve come.
And I look. Because that’s the thing about leaving notes, taking photos, and documenting even the saddest of moments—you really can.
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I’ve never been particularly adept at keeping a diary.
I am a writer by trade, I think—academia, law, creative writing—because of the nature of my education and hobbies. But to write about myself is something I never quite mastered until I found that I did it so regularly through the form of taking photos almost every day. And I found the bits of myself scattered across my social media presence. My captions and photos together served as an easy way to find specific markers or moments in my life where I felt sad or happy or elated. And more often than not, I saw the moments when I felt everything all at once because sometimes, life is overwhelming and does not slow nor stop for a quick breath.
There were moments when I was not sure I would make it; moments when I felt overwhelmed by my own self-doubt. It coursed through me, unrestrained, very nearly crippling me. My own anxious thoughts became my only friends at times.
I had to figure out how to remind myself to keep going. So I wrote. I took photos. I found moments to breathe in a life thrust upon me; a life that felt like it didn’t want to give me a chance.
There are many obstacles to this profession, many of them having to do with privilege in its various forms, and there were moments when I was not sure I would bypass those obstacles. Even working full-time now, I still am unsure I will be able to bypass the same obstacles.
Honestly? Maybe I never will! But I will continue trying because it’s what I owe myself and it’s what I deserve – I deserve the chance to try and I deserve the opportunity, even if I fail because I believe, after many years, that I have the capacity to get back up again.
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If I could leave a note to past me, I don’t think I’d be able to capture the breadth of everything I’d want myself to look forward to. I think I’d tell myself that I’m proud of myself. Maybe I’d leave a note.
But for now, here’s a note for all of you. I wish you the best.
Here’s to you. Here’s to me. We can do it. We did do it. We will do it.