Day 2—where I would like to be in 10 years.

Ten years is a colossal timespan, when I think about it. Ten years ago was 2001. I was finishing sixth grade in the third of the three elementary schools I attended. I hadn’t begun to conceptualize the increasing number of hints that I might be queer, although in retrospect, they were there. My body had just barely started contemplating puberty—I think I weighed sixty pounds. I did convince my mom to let me shave my legs that spring. I had about three friends, because I didn’t know how to be close with anyone, and I didn’t know how to make friends.  I did know that I needed those three girls, though, because you were toast if you couldn’t sit with anyone at lunch.

Ten years from now is 2021. I hope I own a car. Something not “nice,” but one that says something. Electric, maybe, or a VW Bug. I hope I live in a small city, close enough to the ocean (Atlantic, Pacific, Mediterranean, whatever) that I can visit often. I hope I’m with someone who cares back, but I hope I haven’t done anything like signed up for a mortgage with her, so I can move or travel freely if I really want to. I hope we have a dog, and maybe some fish. I hope I see my parents a few times a year, but I hope I talk to them a few times a week. I want to see my sister’s kids a lot, if she has any then, and I hope I talk to my cousins occasionally.

I hope I’m done with grad school by then, so I can do something with that Master’s of Public Health, and that I’m thinking about getting my doctorate soon, or an MBA from somewhere really liberal. I want to be doing something that lets me support myself and that does something good for the world. If I own a business, I want it to be sustainable and in a field that lets me build community or donate the profits. I hope I still write. I hope I can act or do drag occasionally.

I hope I vote and that I know who my representatives are, but I hope that I’m also working toward radical change if it’s still needed. I hope I’m in—or running—a feminist group of some kind and that I read a lot. I hope I have gay friends and straight friends and half-Jewish friends and friends of different backgrounds. I hope we have someplace to go dancing and to drink, but I also hope that we host dinner parties. I want to know how to make good drinks. I want to know how to surf by then. I hope I have my back piece done.

I hope I still believe in myself. I hope I take care of myself and my friends. I hope I go to my high school reunions proudly, with a girl on my arm, and I hope I go to Meliora weekends with that same girl, but also with stories of all the things I’ve seen and done since graduation. I hope I’ve taken lots of pictures of my people and my favorite places. I hope my parents are proud of me and that I’m happy.