Sometimes I think about the future – not the dream house or the perfect job, but about all the women I’ll meet along the way. The ones who will walk into my life by pure coincidence and change it in quiet – or maybe very big – ways.
Recently, I finished a book about friendships. One line stuck out to me: Some are there for a reason, some for a season and some for a lifetime. And it struck me because, of course, this has already happened and will continue to happen in the future. People will keep flowing in and out of your life – and I will also drift through theirs. That constant ebb and flow is both exhilarating and overwhelming.
So here is a small, thoughtful collection — a reflection on hope, connection, and becoming. Maybe you’ll find yourself in one of these letters.
letter 1 – to the girl who feels behind
I can speak from experience here: I know it doesn’t feel good. You see people around you succeed – move in with their long-term partners, get engaged, make more money – while you seem to be standing still. You start to wonder what you’re doing wrong.
You work harder, faster, stronger. You cut seconds off your race times, perfect the piano piece that still feels impossible, chase the straights A’s – yet somehow, it never feels like enough. So what is going on? What is wrong?
The answer is, as frustrating as it sounds, simple: nothing is wrong with you. Maybe it’s because the concept of being behind is a completely made-up construct. Because no matter how hard you try, you will never live the exact same life as anyone else, and that’s the point.
Every life unfolds at their own pace and in their own time. Maybe your friend moves out first to explore the big wide world, while your start college early or find your dream job sooner. The twenties are romanticized as the prime time of life. Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But either way, that looks different for each of us.
There is no falling behind because the right time is at a different time for everybody. So take a deep breath. Rest when you need to. You’re not late – you’re just moving to a different rhythm. And that’s more than okay.
letter 2 – to the woman i’ll be someday
Dear future me,
I wonder what you look like, where you are and what kind of life you’re living. I hope you’re smiling as you read this – maybe even laughing at the naïve, messy, and hopeful version of yourself in her twenties.
I also hope you’re still sarcastic, still passionate about that wonderfully nerdy science you love, and still honest and reflective. I hope your deep, intense love for your friends has only grown stronger.
Wherever you ended up, I hope you still wake up with excitement for what you do. I imagine you’ve let go of a few bad habits, too – the overthinking, the self-criticism, the imposter syndrome and the quiet meanness you sometimes direct toward yourself.
And if you’re still working on that – that’s okay. Know that I am proud of what you have accomplished, and you’ll always be enough, exactly as you are.
letter 3 – to the friend i haven’t met yet
Dear future friend,
when I imagine the future, it’s often through the faces of women I haven’t met yet. The female friendship is one of the strongest bonds I know – a language only we seem to understand.
To me, friendship is in the small things: the I saw this and thought of you texts; it’s about celebrating your friends’ successes like they’re your own; the hugs that hold you together when you’re too weak to do it yourself. It’s about celebrating each other without jealousy, about letting yourself fall and knowing that there is someone to catch you when you stumble.
Wherever you are, dear future friend, I’m already grateful for you. I can’t wait for the long walks, the quiet support, and the laughter we’ll share. Until we meet, I’ll be saving you a seat at my table.
Count your age by friends, not years.
Count yourlife by smiles, not tears.
~John Lennon
letter 4 – to the stranger who reads my words
Dear reader,
thank you for being here – reading my thoughts and sticking around until the very end. Maybe these letters felt familiar. Maybe you saw a version of yourself in one of them.
And if not, I am even more glad you lingered long enough to listen. Maybe we’ll never meet, but somehow, through these words, we already have.