A letter to my 22-year-old self

Hey, kid.

You're 22 and you just landed your first real opportunity in my field. You're terrified. You think everyone's going to figure out that you don't know enough, that you're not good enough, that you somehow tricked them into giving you this chance.

I'm writing to tell you: they didn't make a mistake. And neither did you.

Stop comparing your beginning to someone else's middle. That colleague who seems to know everything? She's been doing this for seven years. You've been at it for seven weeks. Give yourself a break.

Ask more questions. I know you're scared of looking stupid. But the only stupid question is the one you don't ask and then spend three days going down the wrong path. Just ask the question.

Take care of your body. I know you think you can run on energy drinks and four hours of sleep. You can't. I mean, you can for a while — and then you'll crash hard. Sleep more. Move your body. Eat food that doesn't come from a vending machine. Your brain needs fuel.

The relationships matter more than the projects. Some of the work you're doing now won't matter in five years. But the people you're meeting? Some of them will be your collaborators, your advocates, your friends for decades. Invest in people.

Failure is data, not destiny. You're going to fail. Spectacularly. Sometimes publicly. Each failure will teach you something success never could. I know that sounds like a motivational poster. It's also true.

You're going to be okay. Better than okay. You're going to build things you can't even imagine right now. And the journey, with all its mess and uncertainty, is worth every second of it.

With love and a little bit of envy for the adventure ahead,

Future you