A letter to “high school me” from “now me”


Dear Claudia (January 2006 version):

Things are about to change. You’re going to finish high school in about five months, you’re going to spend your last summer free of work, and then you’re going to go to college, as planned. You don’t care about college now, and you’re not going to care during your first semester. But you will. You’ll care about it more than you’ve cared about anything in your life, and you’ll be happy later on that you don’t screw up the first semester, or quit like you were so tempted to do.

You’re going to change your major. You’re going to change your major at least eight times before you finally find what you’re truly interested in, so don’t get too attached to the psychology/theatre/music triple major. You’re not going to fight the desire to change or to take classes outside of what you’re currently supposed to be taking. Each class will lead you to the path on which you want to be.

You’re going to meet a lot of different people from a lot of different backgrounds. Some of them will be people you’ll remember for the rest of your life, and you’ll later regret how little time you’ve spent with them in college. But you won’t regret the fact that you were so focused on your studies.

You’re going to end up loving what you once hated. I know this may come as a shock to you right now, but it’s true. Philosophy will no longer be the worthless waste of time you think it is now, and math and statistics will no longer intimidate you (except for algebra—you’ll still hate algebra). In fact, these will become the things you live for in a few years.

You will love, but you will not be loved back. You will be loved, but you will not love back. And as tempting as it will be to rush things with a certain person, you will resist the urge. Patience, kindness, and being a good and reliable friend will get you both to the desired outcome. Trust me. These may be some of the most confusing emotions you experience, but you won’t let them deter you from your goals.

Near the end of your first year in college, you’re going to start hearing things that aren’t there. You’re going to be scared, you’re going to feel distracted, and you’re going to be medicated. Again. But you’re going to take yourself off of them. Again. Spring 2008 will be the highlight of your college career in all aspects of your life. It may not feel that way when you’re looking forward from 2007, but it will be.

You’re going to work hard and graduate a year and a half ahead of schedule with a 4.0 and a degree you couldn’t care less about. Then you’re going to graduate again in the spring with both a degree and a minor you adore. You’re going to barely get into grad school, and though you’ll be glad to leave Moscow, you’ll wish that you could spend a little bit more time with the things with which you’ve grown comfortable.

You’re going to go to Canada for grad school and you’re going to hate your first semester. You’re going to hate it so much that you seriously consider quitting at least five times—to the point where you’ve stood outside the Registrar’s office with the intent to withdraw yourself from the program.

But you’re not going to quit, at least the first semester. Trust me. As bad as it gets, you somehow reason yourself into staying. You will get A’s in all of your graduate classes, but that won’t be enough to convince you to stay. You’re going to go home for Christmas break, and you’re going to wonder if you should even go back.

And right now, I really, really wish I could tell you if you’re going to make the right decision, or what the right decision is. You’ve trusted your intuition so far and it’s gotten you where you’ve wanted to be…but in this case, I can assure you that you won’t really know what your intuition is.

All I can say is that you should wait. Wait and see what happens. Because honestly, I have no idea how it’s going to go down.

I wish I could help you, but I can’t. After all, I’m just you. Not very helpful, is it?

Good luck,
Claudia (December 2009 version)

 

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    […] 2009 me writes a letter to 2006 […]

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