A letter from Feb 13, 2025

Dear Future Me, I’m lost. I don’t know what to make of my life or if I’m doing the right thing. I feel so alone, like no one will ever love me outside of my family. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and I feel the weight of loneliness pressing down on me. Will I always be alone? Am I not good enough? I’m 17 years and three months old, learning Korean, hoping that somewhere in a foreign country, people will see a value in me that those here don’t. I’m thinking of learning Japanese too, but my head feels so clouded that I can barely focus. I do Jiu-Jitsu, and even though I love it it feels like I’ve lost so much of my childhood—watching it slip away as I go from home to practice and back again. I want to be a kid. But I’m almost 18, almost an adult, and I don’t know what it’s like to exist without anxiety gnawing at me—without biting my nails, without insomnia, without this constant weight on my chest. The pressure to succeed is suffocating, and the desperation to never live the life my parents live is always lingering. I feel like I’m losing my best friend, "Sid". She hasn’t come to practice in three days and keeps making excuses. Maybe I did something wrong, something embarrassing. Or maybe it’s just her new crush from school. Now that "BFG" from Jiu-Jitsu isn’t her crush anymore, her motivation is fading. Honestly, my only motivation right now is talking to "Professor S". He feels like an older brother to me. That small time I’m with him—drilling techniques, talking about traveling, trying new things—I don’t feel so lonely. But outside of that, time I feel like I have no one. No real friends. And I’m not exceptional at anything either. Just... mediocre. That scares me. It feels like I’m getting worse, like life is moving forward and I’m stuck, standing still. My biggest goal? To compete in Jiu-Jitsu, to win gold medals. And, yeah... to have someone. A boyfriend who actually loves me—maybe even someone like the ones in the K-dramas. Yesterday, I was complaining about being alone on Valentine’s Day, and my grandpa told me to get a boyfriend. Can you believe it? The same man who won’t even let me talk about boys in the house! If only it were that easy. I’m not picky. I have so much love and care to give, but no one seems to want it. But beyond that, I know what I want. I want to become a veterinarian. I want to be on track for a pre-vet program. I want to get into UCSD, or wherever will push me toward the life I want. where I know the time passing in my life will mean something Oh, and another thing—I just watched Fast & Furious and I hope I’m as cool as Suki. I love her. She’s confident, she’s stylish, she’s fearless. I hope I’m living my life like that—bold, unafraid, completely myself. And maybe I even got my black Jeep to match. I hope that when I open this letter, I’m not alone. That I have a boyfriend. That I’m planning a trip to Korea. That I’m good—really good—at Jiu-Jitsu. That I’m not afraid to go to the beach in a bikini. That I’ve let go of the past. That I’ve built something I’m proud of. Most importantly, I hope I’m happy. My words of wisdom are this: I am a 17-year-old girl writing to her future self, standing on the edge of something I can’t fully understand. I don’t know if I’m moving forward or just treading water. I don’t know if all of this—learning languages, pushing my body in BJJ, dreaming of love and adventure—will lead me to the life I want, or if it will just leave me exhausted. But even in all of this uncertainty, there is one thing I do know: I want to live. Not just survive. Not just exist. I want to feel something real. Future me, I hope you’ve found something worth waking up for. I hope you no longer feel like the weight of the world is crushing your chest. I hope you’ve laughed—really laughed—until your stomach hurt. I hope you’ve stood on a beach in Korea, wind in your hair, knowing that you made it. I hope you’ve stepped onto the mats and felt like you belong there—not because of medals, but because it’s a part of who you are. I hope you’ve met someone who sees you—not just the version you present to the world, but the real you—and loves you for it. And if you haven’t? That’s okay too. Because more than anything, I hope you’ve learned to love yourself. Not for what you achieve. Not for who you impress. But simply for being you. No matter where you are in life I love you and I think you're so cool for making it this far in life. I know you better than anyone and I think you pretty cool. Right now, life is slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to hold onto it. But if you’re reading this, it means I kept going. And maybe—just maybe—it means you figured out how to make it all worth it. with love, A (17 years, 3 months)