Dear 16-year-old Sharvari,

I know you won’t sit through a long lecture. You’d rather finish a 400-page novel in one night than read something that sounds like advice. So I’ll keep this like the notes you scribble in the margins, the ones that actually stay.
First things first, you’re doing better than you think. You’re a good student, even if you don’t always feel like one. The kind who quietly gets things done, who teachers trust without making a big deal out of it. You think it’s normal. It’s not. Hold onto that.
Also, you’d be proud of me.
Not in a dramatic “wow, she made it” way. More like… you’d look at me and think, okay, she didn’t mess this up. She figured things out. I don’t say that lightly because you’re annoyingly hard to impress. But you would look up to the life I’m building, the way I think, the way I carry myself. Not perfect, not even close, but stronger. More sure.
You’re going to outgrow a lot of things. Some people, some versions of yourself, you thought were permanent. It will feel uncomfortable at first, like wearing shoes a size bigger and pretending it’s fine. Stop pretending sooner.
You’re also going to spend a lot of time waiting for your turn. Watching others get picked, appreciated, and noticed. And it will bother you more than you admit.
I read something recently and immediately thought of you:
“As long as the dice is still rolling, you will get your six.”
You didn’t know this at 16, but you needed it. You don’t have to rush your moment. For now, clap for others. Learn. Observe. Keep moving. Your time is not late; it’s just not loud yet.
Also, since I know what you actually care about, yes, you still love music. You remember the day you found One Direction like it was some kind of personal discovery. And Sanam Puri. You don’t talk about it much, but it mattered. It still does, just in different ways now.
You even have a “Made in the AM” poster now. It’s not original, but it’s there. And honestly, it’s enough. You’re going to realize that not everything needs to be perfect to mean something.
And here’s something you won’t like hearing: not everyone will stay. Some will leave without a proper ending, no explanation, no closure. You’ll learn to be okay with that. Not immediately, but eventually.
You don’t need to be louder to be seen. You don’t need to change everything about yourself to fit somewhere. The right spaces won’t require that kind of effort.
You’re allowed to take your time figuring things out. You’re allowed to not have a plan every second. The version of you that you’re so worried about becoming? She figures it out anyway.
Just don’t shrink yourself to make things easier for others. That habit is harder to unlearn than you think.
You’re going to be okay. Better than okay, actually. Just not in the dramatic, Bollywood movie-like way you imagine. It’s quieter. More real.
And you’ll like it.
— Sharvari, 22

