Dear future me,
I hope you’ve found your passion. I hope you’ve submerged yourself entirely in the creativity of words and writing, the only thing you’ve ever liked to do since you were four years old and you learned how to scribble “dog” and “cat” with multi-coloured crayons on tracing paper. I hope ideas are swirling around you like those fireflies you saw above the river on that lazy August night, bright and flashing and holding on to promise, onto hope. I hope you’ve stopped doubting yourself.
I hope when you look back and see yourself typing this letter on a Word document at 2 am on a school night, curled up on your couch with a blanket, that you smile at the memory. Do you remember how crappy you felt, how you were trapped in the routine of school, home, work, repeat, for months and months on end? Lying there with your head under the covers, you stared at your computer screen until your eyes watered. Hey, life is crappy, and right now the last time I felt alive was that night six months ago, clasping my best friend’s hand and screaming my lungs out at my favourite band’s concert. That memory seems so long ago — it must feel even further away now. I hope you still remember the exact feeling I felt before they walked out on stage, vibrating with every single emotion of the hundreds of people surrounding me. I hope the experiences you’ve had since then are even better; I know you’ll have had moments where your heart has pounded so hard you could hear it in your ears and your hands were clammy with excitement and anticipation.
Has life gotten better? Have you finally learned how to step out of your comfort zone? University is months away, but now that you’re there, is it everything you expected? I hope you’ve said the word “yes” more than “no” and that you’ve had brunch and coffee on a Sunday in your pajama shirt tied in a knot when you had rather been sleeping in. I hope you’ve gone on that road trip you planned, with some guy you have a crush on with messy wild hair and your best friend in the passenger seat. You better have stuck your hand out of the window and fluttered your fingers in the breeze, watched the dark silhouette against the dripping sunset. Or maybe that’s too far-fetched, and you’re lying in your dorm room in the exact position I’m in right now, sipping on your fifth cup of green tea and watching Mean Girls for the hundredth time, wishing you were back home with your family.
I hope you’ve stopped living in cognitive dissonance and have finally blossomed into the girl you’ve always wanted to be — kind, carefree, easygoing, compassionate. Oh God, I hope you’ve stopped taking things personally. Other people’s words don’t matter. They’re just that — words. I hope you’ve realized that the only things that matter are your friends, your family, and yourself. If you’re reading this, go call your dad because he’s one of the most underappreciated people in the world, and you’ll never be able to repay him for everything he’s done for you. Also, send a text to your best friend when you were seventeen, because she’s one of the only people that made you laugh when you felt like you were being dragged down by school and work.
I know life will get better because it can’t go anywhere but up from here. It has to. Oh, and don’t forget to take care of yourself. Always take care of yourself. Eat all the fruit and sweet potatoes in the world and keep sweating your heart out at body combat. Now that you have the opportunity to, go on a hike. Stop stressing, stop living for other people. Your grades aren’t the only thing that matters. Give yourself a break; you’re trying your hardest. Promise me, okay?
.
Love, Adelle.
Adelle is seventeen years old and currently in high school. She loves writing, creating, and all aspects of living a wholesome lifestyle, including veganism and a compassion for all beings on this planet. This is a raw and completely honest “Dear Future Me.”