Sometimes I hate you, and by you, I mean me. After all, we are the same person. We made a lot of mistakes, but you don’t know that yet. What you do know is that you have chosen to not attend class for the second day this week, and it’s a Tuesday. You’re not going to study for that midterm, and you’ve justified yourself with a, “she drops the lowest score anyways.” But that won’t be your lowest score, because the next one you just aren’t going to take.
You will face a few challenges that really set you up for failure. There are some hurdles you need to jump, maybe more than other people, and I suppose I can allot you some sympathy for that. But here’s the thing: You aren’t going to jump those hurdles; you aren’t even going to try.
You’re going to give up like you gave up on other people and your personal responsibilities. You will kick out your inner kindness to make room for self-destruction. You will ignore the better half of your second semester and tank your GPA. The worst part is that you won’t tell anyone. You won’t ask for help until you are so deep in a hole it will take a stairway to heaven to pull you out.
No one is going to ask why you didn’t go to class. They’re going to write you off as another unmotivated 18-year-old living off her parent’s money. Your professors will resent you for the first half, and your parents will resent you for the second. You will resent yourself for all of it.
There will be days when you feel so hopeless, so unlike yourself, that you won’t recognize the girl staring back at you in the mirror. But I beg you to hold onto the lack of identity, because it will eventually serve you. Someone is going to look at you and believe in you, and they’re going to take a chance on you. They will believe in you so extensively, and will teach you to believe in yourself. They’re going to offer you a job. They’re going to shape you into a Student Leader. This job will allow you to help freshmen, to ask them why they did not go to class, and before you know it, that will become your identity. I know it will be terrifying, and you are going to question your value and propensity to do the job. But I beg of you: Do not give into your fear. See, this job is going to save your life.
So hold on for a little while longer. You’re going to be okay. The stairway is coming.
Sincerely,
Your Graduating Self.