The photo above was taken on the day I graduated from high school. I would jump on a plane the next day and say goodbye to that part of my life.
If I could have a conversation with my 18-year-old self, what would I tell him?
I have been thinking about this question a lot lately. With another birthday just around the bend, this is a good time to rummage through the inventory of my life experiences and discern the most important lessons from them.
When I turned 18 (roughly 11 weeks after that photo above was taken), I had just moved to Tennessee and left my island home of American Samoa where my family and I lived for fifteen years. I was still slowly getting acclimated to the way of life in the continental United States.
It was a big cultural transition. Suddenly, there were no more picturesque beaches, quiet villages nestled inside tropical forests, and majestic mountains that dipped into the clouds. The powerful Pacific Ocean no longer befriended me every day. I was no longer surrounded by people who were truly indigenous to their land.
I also had to adapt from being a nerdy high school student to being more of an adult than I was ready for. My parents finalized their divorce the previous December, and bubbling underneath it all, I had to reckon with being queer somehow.
Thinking back, that was a lot of change in a short amount of time. It was a lonesome, tumultuous period.
Until then, I was a straight-A student who was shy but dependable and very organized. My default demeanor was to be kind, courteous, and accommodating. I read lots of books and did not have many close friends.
So, now I climb into a time machine and travel back many years. Maybe 18-year-old me is on a long walk on Lebanon Rd. in Hermitage, TN (as I used to do a lot back then). I would climb out of the big, clunky time machine and shuffle up quietly next to him.
I would ask for a few minutes of his time. This is what I would say . . .
Kindness lulls disappointment into submission.
He does not yet know about the mountains of disappointment he will climb—the struggles with immigration, the numerous failed attempts at love, and all the countless ways he tried so hard only for things to amount to nothing.
I would tell him to treat that disappointment with at least an equal measure of kindness. This is kindness to himself, specifically.
Take time to rest deeply. Luxuriate in the softness of your bed and pillow. Breathe it in. Eat something nourishing and filling. Indulge in something you love after a good cry. Take long, meandering walks among trees and birds. Find a sweet friend to talk to. Ask for a hug. Immerse yourself in all the things that give you comfort.
Everyone will tell you to pick yourself up and dust yourself off when the going gets tough, but nobody tells you how hard that actually is. Disappointment is a dagger to the heart. Do everything you can to heal that wound.
Your kindness to yourself must be limitless.You only have control over yourself.
In life, there are too many unknown and immeasurable variables. An immigration officer might be having a bad day and become less inclined to make a favorable decision. Someone you are dating might not be all that into you. The subpar sound system at a music venue may not convey all the nuances you have infused into your performance, no matter how much you try to adjust everything at the soundcheck. These are a few things among an endless list of considerations that will drive you, young Roqué, crazy.
Focus on what you do with your hands and your voice. Be mindful and intentional of your actions and how you treat others. Everything else is affected by circumstances you may not even be aware of. You cannot read people’s minds or tell the future. You will not be able to change many things in life, but you have control over yourself.Let your intuition guide you.
You are going to constantly second-guess yourself. You will fail to acknowledge a micro-aggression from someone else for what it is. You will give someone who is always mistreating you the benefit of the doubt, even though you constantly feel the pain of their actions.
Learn to trust the things you know—the quiet truths screaming out loud in your gut. Learn to trust yourself. Your body and your mind can discern far more than you know.
Your intuition is the compass for your own self-preservation and protection. It grows stronger with each passing year. Listen to it in your quiet moments and let it guide you.
That’s all I would have to say to 18-year-old me, even though I could easily warn him about so-and-so and songs by Drake. There will be some important mistakes he will need to make. I would give him a long, comforting hug. I would resist the urge to tell him everything will be okay because some things won’t.
In truth, all these things I would tell him are truths I am still learning. I do not trust myself enough in many instances. I still second-guess more than I should. And disappointment is a constant foe.
But I am getting better, and I might now be stronger than I have ever been.
I cannot wait to be visited by 80-year-old me. I trust that he will have a lot more to say.
UPCOMING SHOWS
Roqué’s Concert for One
Liberty, TN
Saturday, August 23
Queer Asian and Pacific Islander Songwriter Showcase
Chinkapin Craftstead in Woodbury, TN
Saturday, September 27
BoroPride
Murfreesboro, TN
Saturday, October 4