A letter from May 24, 2025

Dear FutureMe, I’m writing this at a time when things feel really hard. I’m twelve now, and I’ve had this dream in my heart since I was ten—of going on a trip to Morocco, Italy, Turkey, and Greece. I’ve imagined the cities, the colors, the adventures, and everything I’d feel while walking through the places I’ve only seen in books and videos. This dream has been a part of me. It still is. But just recently, I overheard something that hurt me deeply. Some of my cousins—people I thought cared about me—were talking about how they’re planning this trip... without me. Not just without me, but without my whole family. They said things they are "jealous" or something like that, which makes no sense to me. I feel left out, like they don’t even see how much this means to me. Like I don’t matter. It’s hard to explain how much it hurt. It’s like standing outside in the cold while everyone else is laughing inside. I try not to cry. I’ve been listening to music, pretending I’m okay. But I’m not. And that’s okay. Because my feelings are real, and they matter. And it’s not just the trip. School is hard, too. I want to go to a specialized high school—I want to grow, to challenge myself, to be around people who love learning like I do. But my parents don’t support that. Maybe they’re scared. Maybe they think it’s too much for me. But it feels like they don’t believe in me the way I wish they would. So right now, I’m stuck between big dreams and small cages. Between what I see for myself and what others think I should settle for. That’s a painful place to be. But I’m still here. I’m still dreaming. I’m still writing this to you, Future Me, because somewhere deep inside, I believe you made it. You found a way through the sadness. You healed. You grew into your voice and used it. You didn’t stay small just because it was easier for other people. You traveled—whether with them or without them. You studied hard and found a path that felt right, even if it wasn’t the one others expected. You made friends who really saw you. You started becoming the kind of person you needed when you were younger. If you’re reading this now, I hope you still remember what this moment felt like. Not so you stay in it, but so you carry empathy with you—for the kids who are still hurting. I hope you’re proud of the little you who kept believing even when it felt like no one else did. Keep going. Keep choosing yourself. Keep dreaming of wide open places. You’re allowed to want more, to fight for it, and to become everything they once doubted. I’m proud of you. I’m hurting right now, but I’m still proud—because even in pain, I didn’t stop believing in us. With love and hope, Me (the one who never gave up)