With Love… from the Age of Reason 2010

Margaret is a striking and highly successful businesswoman who sells power plants to the Chinese, projecting an image of polish, control, and undeniable ambition. With an adoring English lover by her side, she seems to have it all—wealth, influence, and a life that sparkles on the surface. Yet on her fortieth birthday, a fragile thread begins to pull at the gloss: the first bundle of letters she wrote to herself when she was seven years old arrives, a curious gift from a past self reaching across time.

Inside these letters lies a carnival of color—collages, photographs, and wildly creative puzzles—that feel almost like they were created by another girl entirely. In one of the missives, the seven-year-old Margaret writes a direct message to her future self: > “Dear me. Today I am seven years old and I’m writing you this letter to help you remember the promises I made when I was 7, and also to remind you of what I want to become…” This line, simple and charged, acts as a beacon and a challenge, pulling the present self toward a different set of possibilities.

As more letters arrive, Margaret begins to feel a growing disillusionment. The memories they awaken cast doubt on the choices she has made and the life she has built, revealing a path that diverges from the dreams she once held. The woman she has become feels increasingly at odds with the girl she promised she would be, and the distance between the two versions of herself widens. The discovery is not merely nostalgic; it unsettles the foundation of her identity, inviting introspection and a reevaluation of what truly matters.

This emotional unraveling leads Margaret back toward the place of her childhood—the village where familiar faces still remember the girl who once inhabited a different world. By reconnecting with people who see in her the girl they knew, she begins to reassemble a sense of self that aligns with her earlier promises. Through these encounters, she starts to chart a path toward the woman she vowed to become, finding guidance in the warmth of recognition and the steady pull of memory.

The journey unfolds at a careful, contemplative pace, letting memory operate as a mirror: it reflects not just who she was, but who she can still become. The narrative remains grounded in truth and emotion, suggesting that even a life that looks complete on paper can be reawakened by a compassionate look inward. In the end, the letters serve not as a retreat into the past, but as a map—one that helps navigate toward authenticity, purpose, and a renewed sense of direction that honors the promises from youth while embracing the wisdom of adulthood.