Dear 16-Year-Old Niamh

 Dear 16-year-old Niamh,

(Look at those brows...)

I’m writing to you from 2026, where a lot of people are saying this year is the new 2016, whatever that means. Today, we're 26-years-old and I can't stop thinking about you. The life you're living and how you're feeling in this very moment. I bet right now you’re blaring Pillowtalk from your iPhone 6, drawing on eyebrows as thick as can be, with a pair of culottes on, ready to show the world your gorgeous shins.

I thought today would be a good time to write to you, to see how you’re doing and let you know how we’re doing ten years later.

Right now, in January 2016, you’re probably working a shift in Staples that you hate, but with a boy you fancy. You feel a bit hopeless, that he’ll never notice how much you like him, and even worse, you’re afraid of what could happen if you take the plunge and let him know how you feel.

Niamh.

Good God, let him know.

Taking a risk is scary, especially when it comes to boys. But I’m writing this letter to you in a house you own with said boy, looking at your pet cat while he cleans his bum (your cat, not the boy).

Speaking of taking risks, you need to let Mum and Dad know you don’t want to do English Lit at university. I know you want them to be proud of you. English Lit is a “proper degree”, but it’s not your calling. Be brave and let them know what you really want to do, film.

From reading every IMDb listing you can find on the tills to spending your wages on bargain-bin DVDs (you’re yet to discover the streaming takeover), you love films. And by taking that risk, your life will change forever.

You’ll learn you love to write, host, and interview. You’ll stumble your way into a career in marketing and even make friends from across the pond.

Brace yourself, you’re not going to do great in those A-levels. But this will force you to tell the truth, choose film, and move to a place you couldn’t even point to on a map.

I know you feel sad a lot at the moment. You have a big friendship group, and yet you’ve never felt more alone. But over the next ten years, you’re going to build a life you could only dream of.

Life can be hard. Things go wrong, you make mistakes, and even on the day I write this, I had a big old cry. But in spite of that, I couldn’t be more grateful for the life we lead. You’re so loved; by family, friends, the boy, and the cat.

The past ten years have gone by in a flash, so much so that I actually can’t believe it’s been ten years. The world has changed so much and so have I. Get ready for them, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Now, jog on. Go and watch some Stranger Things, listen to some The 1975, and maybe, possibly do some revision. 

(Oh, by the way, the word COVID will pop up in about four years. Brace yourself.)