To The Class of 2026

This is less of a speech, more of a pep talk, and really — just some reflections from someone coming up on their 10-year college reunion who feels like graduation was just yesterday.Instead of picturing me on a podium in regalia, let’s pretend I’m sitting next to you on the floor of your dorm as you pack up your things, or sitting across from you at brunch after graduation, or in the backseat of the car on your drive back home, or wherever life is taking you next post-college.To the Class of 2026,The day after I graduated from college, I didn’t get out of bed until 5 PM.I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t watching TV.I barely texted anyone. I was just scrolling through my Instagram feed and well…lying there completely exhausted.The only reason I got up was to get dinner at a pizza place that no longer exists with a friend I stopped talking to a few years later.It would probably shock my 22-year-old self to read these words, about losing touch with that friend, not the pizza place closing.As a native New Yorker, I’m all too familiar with favorite restaurants, coffee shops, and bookstores closing down. My favorite Barnes and Noble on 86th and Lex is now a Target. The benches by the magazine section where I spent countless hours pouring through glossy pages, have now been replaced with a homeware section.I once leafed through a magazine in that very Barnes and Noble, with a cover highlighting a Hollywood actress and her “hard-won happiness.” That phrase always stuck with me.At the time, I probably didn’t have the self-awareness to admit I was far from truly happy. I did know that I liked the idea of describing happiness as “hard-won.” Those two words made me feel instantly seen and validated, as someone who used to secretly roll her eyes when people talked about waking up happy in the morning, with an easy-breezy feeling that I was convinced only exists in fairy tales.The summer after graduation, I moved to Portland for an acting program, hated it, and came back to New York with no idea what I was going to do next. I eventually landed a role in an incredible new play at La MaMa, after originally inquiring about being the stage manager’s assistant. It was an amazing experience. I was featured in the New York Times. Everything was going according to plan.But it turns out, I didn’t love the life of a working actor as much as I thought I would. I started working as a temp receptionist at many Manhattan offices and ended up writing a play while at my desk.I wouldn’t realize that I wanted to be a playwright for a few more years, though. I spent too much money doing things I didn’t enjoy, with people I didn’t have a lot in common with, trying to keep up with the “New York scene.” I look back, and I really don’t like what those “friends” brought out in me, but if you’d asked me at the time, I would have told you that I had a great community. I constantly hustled for my self-worth, and was so busy trying to prove myself to everyone that I could barely enjoy success when it came.I co-directed the same play that I starred in as a fourth grader at my elementary school (Charlotte’s Web) and found more joy working with kids than I’d had in years - even though if I knew I wasn’t meant to be a teacher long-term. Those kids are now in high school, close to entering college themselves (which feels impossible, because they were 9 and learning how to spell just yesterday).(I’m 31, and I still feel like I’m learning how to spell.)We used to dance across the floor to this song called Shine during warm-ups, in a dance class I took in college. I’ve loved it ever since. It goes,Here's where you lose your mindThe water here's divineYou're doing just fineSo, come on, darlingOh, don’t you want to shine?I’m not always sure of what it means to shine. These days, I’m less interested in sparkly, shiny perfection. I do love the heat of the lights in a theater. And the brilliance of the sun, when I’m on a walk listening to a podcast. The verb “shine” is defined in the Oxford American Dictionary as “give out a bright light” or “direct (a flashlight or other light) somewhere to see something in the dark.”When I was in your position, I just wanted all the answers to everything. I was longing for someone farther along than me to pull me out of the darkness and guide me through the murkiness of adulthood, straight into the light. I wanted to shine, and I wanted someone to tell me exactly how to do so. I was adamantly convinced that someone could give me “all the answers.”It took me an entire decade of searching, but I now finally know that no one has those answers I once craved.No one knows everything. And most importantly —No one knows more about you than you.So while I certainly can’t give you any answers, what I will tell you is this —I still fall into the trap of thinking everyone is doing better than me. I literally sometimes walk down the street and make up stories about how complete strangers are happier than I am.I often wonder what strangers might think about me, as they pass me by or catch my gaze. Do they make up stories about why I’m happier than they are? Do they assume that I’m sad, because they’re sad? I wonder what version of me exists in their heads.I think about the version of me that exists in my head; how I somehow know myself best and still often assume the worst.I often contemplate how we can tell truer stories about ourselves, or at least re-examine the ones that we’re telling.Who do you say you are? Who do you think you are? Who are you really?I’m the lady waving at kids on the bus and petting dogs in the elevator.I’m the girl curled up in bed watching a bad TV show I can’t get enough of. It’s somehow the only thing that turns my brain off these days.I’m the girl who watched almost ten seasons of Grey’s Anatomy in one week in college when I skipped all of my classes because I was too depressed to get out of bed.I’m the girl who has a hard time relaxing and has convinced herself that all of her worth in this world is tied to what she can do for other people.I’m the girl who’s trying to unlearn that.I am convinced that tacos can solve anything and that you can’t be upset while watching Legally Blonde.I am convinced that I can do anything with enough coffee.I am convinced there are greater things ahead of me than behind me.I am convinced there are greater things ahead of you than behind you.I hope you know I’m rooting for you, even when you’re feeling lost or you think you’ve ruined everything.I’m especially on your side when it seems like everyone has it figured out except you.Whether you’re sad, anxious, excited, hopeful, or something in between as you enter “the real world” post-graduation, I have a feeling it’s all going to turn out quite differently than you can plan or expect.You never know what’s coming in the next chapter. Even when you’re convinced that you do.As Taylor Jenkins Reid wrote in Daisy Jones and The Six,“Don't count yourself out this early, Daisy. You're all sorts of things you don't even know yet.”You are all sorts of things you don’t even know yet.This is just the start.Congratulations. Go rest and celebrate. You deserve it!The above was adapted from the introduction to my book, The Start of It All.BUY MY BOOKSUBSCRIBE BOOK A SESSION LEAVE A TIP This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit thenuancediaries.substack.com/subscribe