I wish I could go back in time and tell you what I know now. When you were growing older, you took on the burden of many around you. You learned to stay quiet— not cause more trouble, be calm in the storm and always provide steady support for others. You became the person many people could depend on, and you believe that most of your worth lies in making things easier for others around you.
Still, to this day, you’re trying to prove yourself constantly, but I hope you know that you were enough, just as you came. Now a freshly 21-year-old, I teeter on the edge of graduation, caught between the life I’ve known and the world waiting for me. You are looking more at the trajectory of your life than worrying about others. Unfortunately, facing the future with more questions than answers (I think that is normal, though— right?)
I keep telling those around me I feel ready: “Northeastern has prepared me so well to be dropped wherever and thrive.” And while that statement might be true, I just don’t feel it yet. I still need my time to be a kid as I felt like I had to “grow up” so quickly.
Instead of feeling confident about my future, I feel like I am on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a world I am quite uncertain about. I am unsure what I should do, and it is terrifying. Will my dreams and goals blur into a monotonous cycle of responsibility and work? The thought sometimes scares me—what if this next stage of life turns out to be empty, with no room for joy or fulfillment?
I feel so much pressure caught between yearning for a clear future and the bittersweet realization that I am leaving behind something precious. Youth had a kind of magic to it, a sense that joy was waiting just around the corner: spontaneous nights out, long talks with friends, a freedom that felt limitless. But post-grad, I fear that that joy won’t just appear. I’ll have to search for it and make it myself. I wonder if the future will feel as meaningful, as vivid or if I’ll just get lost in the routines of life that most adults have told me to dread.
Someone recently told me, “You’re going to be miserable working every day. Once you graduate, there’s nothing to look forward to.” And I can’t lie—that thought has haunted me. What if they are right? What if I end up just going through the motions of life, my dreams buried beneath the weight of adulthood? The idea of “adulting” feels overwhelming, like a suffocating and inevitable path I can’t escape.
To lighten the mood a bit, I will say that despite all of this uncertainty, there’s a quiet hope building inside of me. This year has been full of soul-searching, and I’m beginning to realize that my future doesn’t have to be a repetitive and dull cycle. The beauty of all this is that I get to shape the next chapter of my life and carry myself forward. I’m slowly learning that joy won’t always come easily, but I’ll find ways to keep my sense of wonder alive. Growing up doesn’t mean the end of happiness; it just means I’ll have to create it for myself.
With love and gratitude,
Your Older Self