Apparently, back in 2012, I wrote a rather cute but slightly cringeworthy letter to myself. It was literally directed to the 'future me' and securely kept in a ziplock bag for years with an instruction to be 'sealed until 2020'. We don't have much time left before 2020 is over, and I owe my 18-year-old self a reply, which has clearly been long overdue, so here we go.
The letter goes:
Dear future me,
How are you doing? I hope the world treats you nicely, vice versa. You never forget to behave well, don't you? By the way, this is me, your past; the old you, writing on a rainy afternoon in 2012. It's January 18, to be exact. Do you remember? You were wearing [a] maroon cardigan and black jeans, [lying] on your bed while writing this letter. Remember?
Well, there are so many questions I'd like to ask you. You are the only one who could answer these; the questions that keep bugging you for a really long time.
What are you now? Who are you now? Did you find your way, at last? Are you enjoying your life now? Have you [traveled] around the world? Have you seen what you want to see? Have you done what you want to do? Have you found the reason for living? Have you lived your life well?
Are you happy?
See, I could ask you tons more questions but I don't want it to be too long. As long as you live happily, I'd probably have no reasons to worry.
Remember. You are more than you think.
Anyway, tell me how you've been doing. I really wanna know what happened that brings you here now. I believe it'd be a really interesting story to be told.
Don't forget you always have God with you.
Also, tell me how's your family doing. Your sister, your parents, and perhaps, your love?
Ah, this is so exciting. I can't wait to hear the story.
Believe me, when you read this later in the future, you'd be in a place that you never imagined before. A whole new world, said Aladdin. I don't know, maybe you're up there in the mountain, or down there in the ocean, or maybe you're a nomad who travels all over the world. Who knows?
Well, you do.
*Edited for clarity. Please keep in mind that back then, I wasn't as fluent in English as I am today.
Two words: how naive.
This letter was written during my early year in college, long before I realized that I had been living in a bubble of safety—before I decided to stop dreaming altogether. Back then I was hopeful, though you could already trace the symptoms of depression and anxiety. I wasn't so insecure. At that point in life, I still had a milestone to look forward to. I had a future to shape, and everything was still a possibility.
And I didn't have the heart to tell her that I screwed up.
But I still have to write a reply, so here you go:
Dear old, innocent me
To be honest with you, life has been a rollercoaster, not just any rollercoaster, but the one with lots of spirals and insane drops. Growing up wasn't easy, but I'm trying so hard to be a responsible, functional adult like you once imagined. Yes, I remember the cardigan and the jeans, and unfortunately, I no longer have them.
It's the last day of 2020, and you won't believe me when I say that the world is being swept by a viral outbreak that turns into a global pandemic. As a result, you've been working from home for the past nine months. By the way, this wasn't your first time having to stay at home for a prolonged period, but this one sucks more because you really have nowhere to go.
But I'm here to answer your questions, so let's not talk about that.
What am I now? I would say that I'm an entity bound with social norms and expectations, trying to make sense of the world around me. Well, if you're curious about what I do for a living, I am now working as a content writer. This might not be what you've always dreamed of, but in a way, your dream did partially come true, and I'm thankful enough for what I have.
Who am I now? I'm sorry to say, but I am not any different than who you are, or rather who I once was. Deep in my core, I am still the old, lost soul who seeks answers to impossible questions, the same old me who wonders what life has in store and questions my purpose on earth. I'm still someone's sister, daughter, and friend. Not much of an impact, but a nice, tertiary addition to someone else's life.
Did I find my way, you said? I guess I did. You know, later in life, you would realize that there's no definite route to take. I know that you still feel that there must be a certain way you need to go through, a certain destiny you need to fulfill, but you need to stop thinking that life is a highway—a linear, predetermined journey—and instead, start thinking of life as a tree. You have branches and leaves on numerous ends, and as you grow up with time and defy gravity, your roots will also bore deeper through the ground. Feel free to interpret it as you wish.
Am I enjoying my life now? I'm trying. You need to appreciate small things in life to do so, and I still need to learn to do this one but don't be too hard on yourself.
Have I traveled around the world? Not as much as I wanted, but I managed to set foot on two different continents and explored five different countries so far. Not a bad start, right? I renewed my passport and planned to travel this year, but the plan has to wait until the bloody pandemic is completely over. I've added some countries like Georgia and Romania to your bucket list, by the way.
Have I seen what I want to see? Some of them, yes. I haven't had the chance to go and see the aurora, so let's try not to die before we do, okay?
Have I done what I want to do? You have to understand that I've buried many of my dreams deep in the center of this planet, but I've also had the chance to do some things your young, innocent self could never imagine. Things won't always go your way, and the universe will not always treat you well, but you need to understand that it's how life works, and you don't have to be bitter about it. I still want to go bungee jumping, though.
Have I found the reason to be alive? This has always been one of the most profound questions you've ever asked, and I don't have any answers to that (yet). The way I like to think about it, though, is that if you can't find a reason to be alive within yourself, try to look for it within others. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for others.
Have you lived your life well? I must say, yes. It's not the best life, but it's the only life I have. Might as well enjoy it, right?
Are you happy? I can't say for sure, but I can still laugh at the most stupid jokes and smile when I find joy in small things around me. Happiness is an abstract concept, so I guess it all depends on how you would describe it. Oh, and I've come to realize that it doesn't have to be an accumulative feeling of all the small and big things you do that bring you joy and warmth. Happiness is everywhere out there, and it almost always comes in a package with sadness, anger, fear, and more.
Your family is doing well. Your sister is in college now. Can you believe it?
Anyway, I want to thank you for enduring everything that has happened in the past eight years, and I really hope you'd still be around when I write you another letter in the future. See, I'm curious about how our future self would be like, too. It's been fun, so let's keep this going for the next decades to come too.
See you in several years.
