Future Me is My BFF
(Past me too) On a different approach to loving yourself.
If you knew me when I lived in LA, you would not have been remiss to assume that “Future Lola” was my sworn nemesis. At the time, I was in grad school full time, working two jobs, interning at a major studio and an indie production company, and in the middle of an absolutely maniacal party girl phase. (I think everyone is entitled to three periods of acute wildin’ out in this manner – I call them Mamma Mia eras, because you have to really be on one to get pregnant and have three potential baby daddies. Do not recommend, fyi.)
Back then, it wasn’t uncommon to hear me say, “well, that’s a problem for Future Lola,” and then I’d knock back the first of many shots of tequila on a Tuesday night. I’d still make it to work on time and hit all my school deadlines, in true Obliger fashion – but only after waking up with a diabolical hangover, perhaps with all my makeup still on, and with my apartment looking like a hurricane just blew through it. I mean, did you really go out if you didn’t try on every item that you own, only to wear the same jeans and black bodysuit that you always do?
This period in my life came to a swift end in the wake of a strange occurrence in March of 2020 — I’m sure you know the one. “Two weeks off from school” became a gut-wrenching period of forced introspection, four moves in three years, and the realization that I am not my accomplishments. See below for an image of me coming to terms with this information.
So let me set the scene: you’re twenty-five, living in your childhood bedroom when mere months ago you were a young tenderoni gallivanting the streets of Los Angeles, a hot girl doing hot girl things. Now you’re quite literally losing your mind upon realizing that you don’t have a personality outside of academic or professional achievement. How do you proceed? Why, you put your hot-off-the-presses MFA to good use and write your way through it, of course. So, indulge me for a moment and instead, let me write the scene:
In effect, I had to accept that future me was actually me – not some distant specter I hated so much I would make her life more difficult at every turn, even though present me would have never thought about it that way. By the same token, I had to stop looking at past versions of myself with cringing revulsion, hating them for doing the best they could with the tools they had. After all, if they hadn’t figured out some way to manage all their ish – albeit imperfectly– I wouldn’t even be here now to look down my nose at them (and Future Lola wouldn’t have a walk-in full of vintage designer and her intimate friendship with Lenny Kravitz). It sounds ridiculously simple now, but back then it honestly hadn’t occurred to me: to be the version of you that “has it all figured out,” (a fallacy, but please indulge me again), you have to spend some time actually figuring the shit out. And so your future self has to become your dearest friend and greatest ally, because you are working in tandem to create the life that you want.
So now I will dip a little early even when I’m having fun (on the rare occasion I leave my home), and Future Lola sends me a little bit of love because she gets to wake up refreshed and ready to take on the day. I will take out the trash and recycling the moment it occurs to me, to spare Future Lola three trips up and down the stairs on a random Saturday morning because I’ve let things pile up. I will treat myself with tenderness and care so that Future Lola is already in the habit, and so she recognizes what this looks and feels like from others. This, I’ve learned, is the key to truly loving yourself: realizing that you are all you have been and all you will ever be, all at the same time. You can’t love your current self while dragging your past self, or while fucking things up for your future self.
Every time we act in the best interest of our future selves, we create an infinite love loop, love moving seamlessly from past to present to future and back again. Our present self gets to feel the love of our future self, knowing that we’ve made the best choice for the life we want. At the same time, we get to feel the love of our past selves, who are grateful that we held on long enough to move beyond merely surviving to thrive. In the words of Beyoncé and her husband, everything is love, and we are at the center of it all. Your future self is the easiest friend you’ll ever make – luckily, they already love you down.
Here are some images that have been on my mind before I leave you:
And
If you’re not familiar with Lenny Kravitz’s palatial compound in Brazil, please watch his AD house tour, which lives in my mind rent free (and is what Future Lola plans to do there, once Lenny and I become acquainted somewhere chic and expensive like Monaco or the Maldives.)
Thank you so much for reading! I was in a silly, goofy mood this week and wanted to play around a bit – thank you for giving me the space to do so. I’m off to the movies to see American Fiction (Jeffrey Wright and Issa Rae? Yes please!) and will be sharing my thoughts in the end-of-month Brain Dump for paid subscribers. If that interests you at all, please consider upgrading to paid. (I will also be watching Saltburn when I gather the strength, God help me.)
See you next Sunday,
Lola xx
Your script is amazing! I want to see the Lola show
thank you so much & thank you for reading 💓