A Letter To My Freshman Self

Dear 18-year old me, 

Right now, you’re probably sitting on the floor of your dorm room after moving across the country to a brand new place, your chest filled with a mixture of excitement and fear. You packed far too much, but somehow still nothing quite right despite the endless “what to pack” videos you watched and checklists you created, edited, and perfected. 

You’re ready for your life to change. Ready to tackle a new school, a new city, new internships or jobs, and new challenges. You think that there is a certain path that you’ll know to take, and that you’ll come out on the other side of the next four years having figured everything out. Not only will you have a degree, but you’ll have a plan, a laundry list of accomplishments, and a specific direction for your life. 

Here’s what I want to tell you: Some of those things might matter, some might happen, but most won’t. At first, you’ll spend so much of your time chasing the idea of success that you walked in with – grades, recognition, and approval. You’ll measure the worthiness of your time in colorful blocks on Google Calendar and how tightly you can squeeze them together. But ever so slowly, this feeling will shift. 

You’ll stop feeling like you’re falling short just because you’re not constantly doing more, and you’ll start to feel grounded in the choices you make and the way that you’re filling your time. You’ll realize that the most important parts of your time here aren’t the ones that fit neatly on the next line of your resume. They’re in the late-night conversations perched on your kitchen counter, the constant laughter with your friends, the spontaneous adventures, the setbacks, the ups, the downs, and the friendships that will leave you sobbing together on your living room floor when you think about your time with one another ending. 

You’ll grow in so many ways that you didn’t plan for. Your interests will change, boundaries will shift, and this version of success you were so focused on will entirely transform. You’ll say no to things that once felt like the entire point and say yes to things that seemed like they would never matter. You’ll learn to view rest as productive and time spent with friends and the community you’ve built around you as essential.

And finally, in a crazy blur, when the time comes to leave, you won’t have all of the answers. That plan and direction you were searching for? You still won’t have it. You’ll still have so many questions unanswered, but for the first time, it won’t matter. It won’t matter because you’ll walk away with something even better: a deeper trust in yourself and your abilities, and a willingness to step bravely into the discomfort of the unknown. Not because you did anything wrong in your time here, but because you finally understand that there is no perfect roadmap to life or way to get it right. 

So take a deep breath and let go of the pressure you put on yourself to be perfect. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now (and you still won’t four years from now). Although you might not be walking away with a perfect plan, you’ll leave with a clearer sense of self that will guide you through whatever comes next. 

Love, Your (Almost) 22-Year-Old Self

• #graduation
• college
• freshman
• senior
• UCLA