A Letter for a Heroine's Journey

Dear Andrya,

Andrya built the custom over-the-toilet shelf herself!

Twenty-six years ago I was where you are now--sort of. Though you and I both left home for good at the beginning of a new Fall semester, your entry to adult independence has also been different than mine. Where I turned a metal key in a door handle lock, you waved a FOB. My door opened to a cramped circa-1965 dorm room where I shared a corded phone with my cousin. You entered a full apartment that smells of drywall and primer and set your handheld computer (cell phone) on a newly assembled nightstand in your private bedroom before heading into the en-suite bathroom. 

It’s not just our on-campus housing that differs. You’ve been jumping feet-first into autonomy (and then skinny dipping in it) from your early tweens. Where navigating an airport alone as a forty-something still causes me unease, you’ve already thrice hopped unaccompanied and without phone service around the Americas--hello New York City, Bogota, and Ensenada! Where I feel incapacitated by my single language, you feel free to immerse yourself in any culture to learn it.

I stand in awe of you in many ways. True awe.

It’s also not just your sense of adventure. Your charmed life baffles me too. I know you earned a lot of A’s, but the fact that a pandemic conspired to get you one more semester toward your cumulative 4.0 with almost no work on your part is pretty amazing. Apparently karma thinks you earn A’s in AP Calculus and AP Spanish by making your own prom gown and listening to novels. The universe, it seems, has organized around giving you a four-year, full-ride scholarship with honors discounted housing to boot! 

Notice where her textbook landed!

You pulled together your graduation
in the last week of school.

    

Your teachers, counselors, extended family and friends have filled your childhood education with expectations of college and fears of what may become of those who instead choose entrepreneurship or technical training. Despite their insistent voices, Dad and I thought you might be the child to take that alternative course, to refuse the scholarships and head into the wide world with an online programming job that could support your globetrotting. However, since the path you are taking now is somewhat familiar to me, perhaps I can offer advice as you step out of our home and into adulthood.

First, are you experiencing some hesitation to moving out and on? For someone who doesn’t feel sentimental about leaving home, you’re taking a long time to do it. Your older sisters each moved completely out in a day. You’ve been sleeping at your apartment for nine nights, but you keep coming back. Do your dozens of houseplants that continue to litter our house mean that you’re not quite ready to go? Is it reluctance to let go of childhood, or is eating here part of a game to see how long you can go without buying your first groceries? We’re happy to feed you, but we also want you and your houseplants to feel fully settled in your new space. So roll out that yoga mat, do some sun salutations and shavasana next to the huge window in your new bedroom, and maybe invite a roommate to join you. Accept that space fully as yours. It will be a refuge on the days that are tough, and a place to create memories with your new college family.

Speaking of days that are tough, the years ahead will bring new challenges. Covid19-forced online classes are not ideal. Find ways to engage anyway. Some of your professors will be annoying. Be grateful for the ones who become trusted advisers. Customers of whatever part-time job you take will treat you as an object. See them as people despite their blindness.

We all experience misfortunes through life’s phases. In this one, maybe it will simply be the stresses of academic tests and projects and deadlines. Perhaps society’s “covid new normal” will bring you anxiety, depression, or loneliness. Maybe an illness will beset you or a loved one. Or your belief system and values will be tested and found wanting. Whatever it is, it will be something. That’s one of the guarantees of life. That’s also where you’ll find your best growth.

You are the daughter of a prevention-focused mother and a promotion-focused father. You are more like Dad in this way, but I can tell you that some misfortunes can be avoided through good planning. Figure out your budget, and stick to it. Stay on top of your car’s maintenance and remember to turn off the headlights when you park. Get your flu shot and your rest. And I know you’ve learned that teachers’ deadlines are flexible, but sometimes in college and work, they are not. Plan your time, and don’t let the belief that a deadline can be massaged trip you up once it’s too late to renegotiate.

With that all said, your father would add that there are four types of people in this world. I am in the smart and hard-working quadrant. You and he are in the smart and lazy corner. I don’t understand how people in your corner operate without taking preventive measures in the details of life, but I will acknowledge that it seems to be working for you.

If it doesn’t, though, my best advice is that you have a working relationship with God in place for when the setbacks come. Let Them into your life. Whether that’s taking hikes in our beautiful mountains, meditating in UVU’s Reflection Center, studying scripture alone or with an Institute class or with our family on Sundays, find ways to turn to the Parents who love you better than your dad and I can. Learn how God communicates with you. They will guide you in your finances, relationships, schoolwork...whatever you choose to share with Them. Partner with Christ in the work you pursue, and the Spirit will magnify your efforts.

The whole point of existence is to find that the adversity of life shows us how weak and fragile we are--and then, if we face it, it strengthens us. In the university arena, I hope you’ll learn from my mistake. I hope you’ll let go of wanting to prove that you’re a winner at the game of school and instead get to the business of learning. Delve into the knowledge and mentorship available to you at the university, and find what speaks to you. Don’t approach mid-terms and finals with late-night cramming and the least possible work to get the grade you want. Let those tests show you what you’ve learned, and then keep building on that. Discover your gifts, your genius. Develop those to share and improve whatever spheres you influence. You can go through the motions of school, or you can rise above the grades and become a lifelong student, giver, and teacher. We already know you have the brains and the charm. I invite you to bring the work and the curiosity to find out what adulthood has to teach you, what you can offer the world, and who you become in the process.

I can’t wait to see what you do with the life ahead of you! I already feel privileged to have a front-row seat.

Love always,

Mom