A few months ago, Stephen Fry published a letter in the Guardian, addressed to his sixteen year-old self. A great deal of it focused on him re-assuring Fry-the-younger that it was acceptable to be gay. It was thought provoking stuff, and plenty of Guardian readers replied by writing a similar letter to themselves. I vowed to myself at the time that I too would write to my former self, but like many of my projects, it simply got added to the To Do List. No more though. I’ve done it now, and I feel inclined to share it.

Hi Olly.

It’s me. Or you, actually. Same person. I’m the 21 year old version of you. Nearly 22 now, so I have about six years on you. I know that you won’t believe that you are the person who wrote this letter to yourself, so I shan’t waste time trying to persuade you in vain. Just give this letter a thought, as if it were merely a piece of creative writing.

Happy Birthday. I know your first sixteen years were not easy. Believe me, it does get easier. Not immediately, but it happens. First things first, you’re probably a little worried about the GCSE results which come back in about three weeks. Don’t be. You did well on these – really well. Turns out you don’t fall to pieces in exams. I’m still proud of how you did now. Just enjoy your summer.

Now to long term matters. You have spent a while convincing yourself that you’re not exceptionally clever, aren’t good-looking, won’t be attractive to the opposite sex, don’t have much in common with others, aren’t good enough to have a job, and will never have a girlfriend. Forget about this, you’ll prove it all wrong by your twentieth, and the girlfriend bit a little sooner.

I know you won’t believe me, but you will actually manage to overcome your spells of depression. You’re going to master it to an extent that it becomes a strength, and you’ll be glad for the experience. You’ll use it as a source for understanding other peoples’ difficulties, and you’ll be pleased when you start to like your own identity. I’m not saying life becomes laughably easy – it doesn’t. There are still tough bits. I know this will dishearten you, but you’re going to find most of it rather fun, and at times you will feel like you are on top of the world and hold the key to your own destiny. I can hear your protests now. You’re still a part of me six years on, and I know you don’t believe that you can reach these heights, or that you deserve to. You will though.

You can be funny. You can be clever. You can feel comfortable being yourself. You will sometimes feel good about your appearance. You’re a good person, which can be hard work, but persist with it. It’s given me some lovely rewards, as you will find out for yourself. It’s all in there already, and you will be empowered to actually feel these thoughts when the time is right.

Just try not to worry about it. It’s almost painful to ask you to do this, because I know that you won’t be able to prevent yourself from feeling the full force of your doubts. You’ve got a lot to go through yet, as do I, but you’re going to be so pleased with how it works out. I’m still alive! That in itself is a good sign. You have more resilience than you give yourself credit for.

By the way, I know you’ll hate me for this, but I shall neglect to tell you the results of next year’s sporting events. You can be happy and feel successful without money. Don’t get me wrong, I still worry about it now, but it’s probably for the best. I know you’ll be frustrated. I know we once told Grandad we’d own a Ferrari by 30, but you’ll understand. The evidence is overwhelming – wealth does not equal happiness and you don’t need the wealth to find that out. (Read Epicurus – he’ll tell you. I like him. Look him up).

Anyway, just be patient. Write down all of the quotes which strike a chord with you. You’re going to make some amazing friends; not everyone you meet in the next six years will turn out to be a good egg, but put them behind you and move on. There are some wonderful people out there who you are yet to meet, but will create great friendships with. Also, I know you find your brother annoying, but you’ll be proud of him before long, and you’ll be glad to have him around. He is actually a remarkably decent person.

I almost forgot the most important thing. You can be independent. You will be. You will get to the point where you only need yourself, which means that you don’t put so much pressure on those around you. You will learn to cope, and prosper, just by yourself. There will be plenty of help from others on the way, but you’ll find the resources to do it yourself whenever you need to. Have faith in yourself. Please try not to worry. I don’t have grey hairs yet, but we might be able to fend them off longer if we cooperate.

You spent a while being your own worst enemy. We’re on the same team now. Have confidence.

Yours,

Olly.

And there you have it. More upbeat than the former me would have ever dared to suspect. In your face, life.