Today you turn sixteen. In some cultures, this is the day you cross a threshold into adulthood. In others, it's the day you get to drive, to say yes to late nights with friends, to make decisions that were never yours to make before. Whatever the tradition in your world, sixteen is the age when the world starts asking you to grow up. And I wanted to write this letter now—before the day itself gets lost in cake and celebration—to tell you some things I hope you'll keep with you.
What does growing up actually mean?
Everyone will tell you different things. The world will tell you it means fitting in, doing what everyone else does, being cool by someone else's standards. They'll tell you it means knowing the right answers, making the right choices, never showing doubt. But the truth is more interesting than that. Growing up means learning who you actually are underneath all the noise. It means starting to make decisions because they feel true to you—not because someone else says they're cool or right or what you're supposed to do.
It means feeling pressure—from friends, from school, from the world—and still having the courage to say no. It means making mistakes and learning that mistakes don't define you. It means being kind even when no one is watching, because you want to be kind, not because you have to be.
What should you know about pressure?
There will be pressure. Pressure to drink or do drugs because "everyone's doing it." Pressure to be sexually active before you're ready. Pressure to look a certain way, to post the right things online, to be someone you're not. Pressure to get perfect grades, to be a perfect athlete, to be a perfect daughter or son. The pressure will come from so many directions at once that sometimes it might feel like you're drowning in it.
But here's what I need you to know: you get to decide what's right for you. Not your friends. Not the internet. Not me. You. If something doesn't feel right, you don't have to do it. If you're scared, that's okay—it means you're paying attention. If you change your mind about something you said yes to, you can say no. Your body belongs to you. Your time belongs to you. Your choices belong to you.
I'm writing this on the day you turned six, watching you blow out candles and giggle at the mess you made. I'm thinking about the person you'll be at sixteen, and I'm so proud already. I want you to know that no matter what you do, where you go, or who you become, I'm on your side. Not because you're perfect—you don't have to be. Because you're brave enough to keep learning who you are. Be honest with yourself. Be kind to others. Say no to things that don't feel right. And please, when you need help, ask for it. Love, Dad.
Stay true to yourself—even when it's unpopular
The hardest thing about being sixteen is that you're starting to develop real opinions, real values, real beliefs about how the world should be. And sometimes those beliefs won't match what the people around you believe. You might care about things no one else seems to care about. You might want different things. You might see injustice that others ignore. You might want to be alone when everyone else wants you to party.
Don't let anyone make you small. Don't shrink yourself to fit. The world needs people who know who they are. And the people worth keeping in your life are the ones who respect that about you, even when they disagree.
You have permission from me to be exactly who you are becoming. To change your mind. To be weird. To be serious. To be silly. To have passions that don't make sense to anyone else. To be cautious when others are reckless, or brave when others are scared. The only failure here is pretending to be someone you're not.
Sixteen is just the beginning. The decisions you make now will ripple forward into your whole life. But they don't define you forever either. You're allowed to grow. You're allowed to be different next year than you are this year. You're allowed to change your mind about everything.
I'm so excited to watch who you become. Not because I have expectations for you—but because you do. You have dreams and ideas and a vision for your own life. That's everything.
Happy sixteenth birthday. I love you so much. If you want to write a letter back, or record a voice message, or sit down and tell me what you're thinking about your life, I'm here. Always. And when you're older and reading this again, I hope you remember that someone believed in you completely when you were sixteen. Someone thought you were going to do extraordinary things. Someone still does. Write your own letter today with Dear Forward—capture who you are right now, save it for someone you love, or for yourself in the future.