Email This Post HomeHumor40 Year-Old Me Meets 20 Year-Old Me Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Humor, Women's Humor 28 Comments First seen in Skirt! Magazine. I look at the woman sitting in my aisle of the plane. She is young. She is familiar. My god, she’s ravishing. “Wait, are you…? She nods. “Yep. I’m YOU, 20 years younger. Surprise!” I gasp and flop down in the seat beside her. Ok, maybe she isn’t ravishing, but she’s 20 years younger than me, and that is about as ravishing as I ever was. This is IT. This is the moment when I tell Young Me all the things I wish I knew then. Either that, or I’m in a Lincoln Financial commercial and I’m supposed to tell Young Me how proud I am she’s saving money by flying in coach. Like she had a choice. No, that’s not it. My idea of saving money is not feeding a parking meter and gambling the ticket lady won’t stroll by. I clap my hands together, giddy with excitement. “Do I have things I want to tell you!” Young Me seems happy to see me, but she has dark circles beneath her eyes, marring otherwise tight, fresh skin. How did I not appreciate that skin? I make a mental note to tell her to wear sunscreen. “Can I guess why you look so tired?” I ask. “Were you up all night talking your overly-dramatic boyfriend out of throwing himself off the porch?” She nods. “Our first-floor porch, five feet from the grass.” “Riiight… You have four more years of that to look forward to.” Young Me is alarmed. “Four? But we’re soul mates! What happens in four years?” “In four years you spend all the money you have buying him a ticket to grad school in Hawaii.” “I do? By himself? Why?” “Distance makes it a LOT easier to break up with him. After missing your chance to do semester abroad and all sorts of other fun college things, you realize that taking care of him is making you lose yourself. This epiphany arrives right after you catch your “soul mate” flirting with another girl on the phone. I wish I knew who she was so I could send her a thank you card now…” “Seriously?” “Yep. It’s the breaking point. When the opportunity arises, you pay for his ticket, buy him a laptop and send him on his way. When he calls to ask for more money a couple of weeks later, you end it.” Young Me’s jaw falls. “I buy him a laptop, too? I’m an idiot!” I nod. “I know. That doesn’t really change.” She spots my wedding ring. “So who do I marry?” she asks, motioning towards it. I look at the ring and smile. “First or second time?” “What?!” Young Me is getting agitated. I would buy her a drink, but I know she only likes sticky sweet margaritas and thanks to her passion for them, I can’t bear the smell of them. “Well, you’re so traumatized by the first guy, you end up marrying the exact opposite person. He dotes on you.” “Dotes? Then why do we get divorced?” “One night, after you have a minor knee operation and are recuperating, this boy scout of a husband doesn’t show up for dinner. He doesn’t show up to dinner with your parents after you had an operation. When he finally does come home, he explains he lost track of time showing a young, male tennis partner around downtown.” Young Me scowls. “Ok, weird… but hardly a reason to leave him.” “It seems less weird after he gets more distant and mean and you look through his computer and find photos and… Well, let’s just say it seems less weird later.” Young Me falls silent. “You get the house,” I say, trying to cheer her up. “So who’s this guy?” she asks, pointing at my ring. “Oh, he’s great! Third time’s the charm. You meet him at a bar about a year after your divorce.” Young Me perks up. “Whew! I was really starting to worry!” I smile. “You don’t do everything wrong,” I say, my eyes drifting to her frizzy hair. “For instance, I think you’re only a year away from losing that perm. Yikes.” She touches her head self-consciously. “Ok, well… good! This is AMAZING finding out what I do wrong!” “I have SO many things I want to tell you!” I say, mentally listing examples of zigs where I should have zagged. “So many things to avoid, so many…” My eyes fall on my wedding ring. I stop in mid-sentence. Young Me is alert and ready to hear the secrets of her future life revealed, but I’ve stopped thinking about all my wrong turns. I’m thinking about how happy I am NOW. If I tell her what to avoid, even the smallest thing, it will change my path forever and everything will be different. If I tell her the things she should have done differently in her career, her love life, with family, with friends; where will I be now? If she breaks up with the boyfriend she has at 20 too soon, she’ll change my path and I’ll probably never meet husband two, whom I love very much. I release a deep sigh. “I can’t tell you anything,” I say. “And I need you to forget everything I told you so far.” Young Me starts to fade. Soon, she’ll be gone, destined to make all the mistakes I made and me powerless to stop her. “WAIT!” I scream, trying to grasp her now transparent arm. I am about to lose a once in a lifetime opportunity. A million facts are clamoring to be revealed: the rise of the Internet, what stocks to buy, the real estate bubble; how can I help her without disturbing my timeline? There must be some way… “One night you’ll eat Mexican with Husband Two and his mother!” I yelp. Young Me nods, lingering long enough for me to share my final words. “Don’t eat the guacamole!” About Latest Posts Amy VansantAmy Vansant is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal Best-Selling author specializing in fun, funny fiction --- even the murder mysteries. Latest posts by Amy Vansant (see all) New Series Poll, Giveaways - April 18, 2019 Pineapple Port Challenge Winners - April 11, 2019 Pineapple Port #9 Cover Reveal - April 2, 2019 28 Responses iampisspot December 13, 2011 I absolutely adore this post. It resonated very deeply with me. In the past year, I have ventured on a pretty enlightening yet terrifying personal journey. I think if I met the Liz from a year ago, I would have so much to say to her, but, like you, I’d have to leave her to make the mistakes, suffer the heartbreak and learn to come out the other side. It’ll be interesting to see where I’ll be in twenty years! Your writing really captured me, so thank you. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Thank you for reading! I wish I could go back to Last Friday me and tell her not to eat that cheese steak, but what can you do. 🙂 0 likes Reply Jen December 13, 2011 I sometimes think how great it would be to fill the young me in on all the things I shouldn’t worry about. I do love where I’m at now so wouldn’t want any of that to change. I just wish that I could have spent less time being stressed about things that didn’t matter and enjoy everything more. But, that’s what growing up is for I guess. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Absolutely. The only thing I know more impossible than going back in time is convincing a younger person that an older person might actually be RIGHT about a lot of things. 0 likes Reply Lance December 13, 2011 Two weeks ago, I sat down and wrote a letter to 18 year old me. It’s a conventional, cliched, blog post. I was struggling with something non fiction to write. Suddenly, in the middle of what I thought was a funny, snarky, slightly stupid 500 words abotu what a jagoff I was at 18, I started to get emotional. Robot me, pulled the emo back inside and I realized that today and tomorrow kick yesterday’s ass. I doubt I’ll post it, unless you or Abby can talk me into it. I love seeing the picture of you at 30. I had to get rid of every picture of me before the age of 35 due to copyright issues and wel…evidence. Love this post 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Post it! But you have to add a picture. There must be one floating around… HS yearbook? Was it hairband hair? Kind of mullety? Come on… you can show us… we won’t laugh… *snicker* Thanks! 0 likes Reply JustMe December 13, 2011 I love this. I’m only 28 – but there are SO. MANY. THINGS I would tell the high school / college / grad school Me. So many things. I would save myself money, heartache, confusion, 5 pounds of cake weight… Gosh. IF ONLY. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Quick! Rush out and find someone 40 and ask them for advice on EVERYTHING!! 🙂 0 likes Reply Grace Lewis December 13, 2011 This is great. I feel the same way about my stupid college boyfriend. Can’t change that because it would change where I am now. The way I get around this is by passing these things on to my younger sisters who are 6 and 12 years younger than me (One is newlywed and the other an 18 yr. old college freshman.) I would be thrilled if they didn’t have to go through all the same crap I did. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 13, 2011 Too bad they’ll never listen once they’re in LOOoouuuvve. 🙂 0 likes Reply bschooled December 13, 2011 Best. Post/Story. Ever. I’m not kidding, I would wait in line to buy your memoir. And I never wait in line for anything. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 14, 2011 *blush* You are too kind mam. Well, when we’re sitting in the old folks home/loony bin for Wayward Bloggers I’ll just hand you one. 0 likes Reply Jeane December 16, 2011 What a wonderful post. So touching and then of course a touch of you humor. We often forget that some of the mistakes we have made have actually helped us get to a more perfect place…wonderful post. You and your bother are adorable. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 18, 2011 Thank you! I won’t tell my brother what you said – it will go right to his head. 0 likes Reply Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd December 16, 2011 I love this! I would be really lame and say things like, “Don’t bother watching Entourage when it starts, you’re just going to realize it’s about a bunch of douchebags and stop watching it, anyway.” 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 18, 2011 I actually watched the whole series and the self-loathing derived from that helped give me that pain and anguish you need to write. 0 likes Reply Christine December 18, 2011 I love this post. I wish we could all see at the time that every little thing that happens – the good AND the bad – leads us to right where we’re supposed to be. I’m pretty sure I’d still tell young me to avoid tequila, though. 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 18, 2011 I sometimes think it would be cool to be able to see the options too – to be able to say “If X happened how would that turn out?” Of course then you’d be frozen for second guessing yourself. 0 likes Reply blunt delivery December 19, 2011 ah my dear. how i love these kind of posts. interestingly enough, i once moved to london for school in order to make it easier to break up with a guy so i don’t think you’re crazy at all. oh i’m almost there. i’m 30 now, but i’ve already got volumes of stuff i’d tell 20 yr old me. oh, and that lip liner. gees 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 20, 2011 So glad to hear someone else moved a body to another state just to break up. Sometimes a little separation is all you need! (See, I could tell a kid that but would they listen? NOOoooooo….) 0 likes Reply Naked Girl in a Dress December 22, 2011 I have read so many posts that were letters to the old me. This is the most original take on it that I have read. It is funny, but so true. I cling to my past mistakes as well because I know anything different would change the course of my life. Life looks good now. I wouldn’t want to live it any other way so wouldn’t mess with the past. Great post! 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant December 22, 2011 Thanks! I don’t think I started out writing a “message to the old me” post, but the next thing you know, that’s what was on the page. 🙂 0 likes Reply Sylvia December 29, 2011 This was incredible. I’ve been fantasizing about meeting up with younger selves, so it was fun to read this. And yep – change one thing, and you lose where you are now Ah, what the hell. All the other stuff is part of the fun (?). :0) 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant January 2, 2012 Thanks! Yep – lot of things I sort of regret might have been worth it. 0 likes Reply My Inner Chick January 2, 2012 —Deliciously Devine. I absolutely Loved this. Brava! 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant January 2, 2012 Thanks! 0 likes Reply Erin ronald August 30, 2014 Ohhhh the things I could have done differently. People not to trust, relationships that dragged on too long. That one tryst in a disabled stall in the ladies room at a seedy bar I used to frequent. Alas, as you say…those decisions bring us here, don’t they? And I’m really enjoying here right now. Sometimes it takes a million wrongs to make a right. Excellent post! Giggles all around! 0 likes Reply Amy Vansant August 30, 2014 Thanks! I feel the same way. Lots of things I could change, but I wouldn’t if they would disrupt where I am now! 0 likes Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Add me to Amy Vansant's Humor Newsletter!