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Dear FutureMe, Michelle Hi guys,You are now 23 years old. You're not working yet, and you didn’t get to finish your studies—not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t have the money. Even though you were so close—just one thesis away—you had to stop.
Now it's June 27, 2025, 6:54 AM. You’re lying in bed, in your messy room, with a messy mind. But still… thank you. Thank you for staying alive until now.
I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I truly hope you'll be happy one day.
I know you want to work. You've thought about it, dreamed about it. But somehow, every time you're ready to try, your own family brings up your mental health. Like when your aunt said, "Are you mentally strong enough to work for someone else?" That one sentence messed you up more than anyone realizes.
You were finally brave enough to consider working—and then she, the one who was supposed to believe in you, planted doubt instead. Why would you say that to your own nephew, when I was just trying to move forward?
You didn’t need her reminder. You already knew.You were just hoping someone would say, “I believe in you.”
But the truth is…Why has my family always been like this?You kept me sheltered all my teenage years. You never let me explore, never let me see the world—and now that I’m 23, you demand I work and provide for you.But weren’t you the ones who scared me in the first place?You were the ones who made me afraid of loud voices, even when they weren’t directed at me. You were the ones who made me anxious, unsure, and full of self-doubt.
And now you expect me to suddenly become confident? Strong? Capable?You never supported me. You poured your problems onto me, again and again, but you never cared to ask about mine.
So I stayed quiet. I held everything in.Because I knew… you wouldn’t listen.
I’m so tired.If it weren’t for my partner… maybe I wouldn’t even want to see this world anymore.
But I’m still here.And I’m writing this.Because somewhere, deep inside, there's still a tiny spark that wants to live.Not just survive.But truly live—freely, fully, and without fear.
Now it's June 27, 2025, 6:54 AM. You’re lying in bed, in your messy room, with a messy mind. But still… thank you. Thank you for staying alive until now.
I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I truly hope you'll be happy one day.
I know you want to work. You've thought about it, dreamed about it. But somehow, every time you're ready to try, your own family brings up your mental health. Like when your aunt said, "Are you mentally strong enough to work for someone else?" That one sentence messed you up more than anyone realizes.
You were finally brave enough to consider working—and then she, the one who was supposed to believe in you, planted doubt instead. Why would you say that to your own nephew, when I was just trying to move forward?
You didn’t need her reminder. You already knew.You were just hoping someone would say, “I believe in you.”
But the truth is…Why has my family always been like this?You kept me sheltered all my teenage years. You never let me explore, never let me see the world—and now that I’m 23, you demand I work and provide for you.But weren’t you the ones who scared me in the first place?You were the ones who made me afraid of loud voices, even when they weren’t directed at me. You were the ones who made me anxious, unsure, and full of self-doubt.
And now you expect me to suddenly become confident? Strong? Capable?You never supported me. You poured your problems onto me, again and again, but you never cared to ask about mine.
So I stayed quiet. I held everything in.Because I knew… you wouldn’t listen.
I’m so tired.If it weren’t for my partner… maybe I wouldn’t even want to see this world anymore.
But I’m still here.And I’m writing this.Because somewhere, deep inside, there's still a tiny spark that wants to live.Not just survive.But truly live—freely, fully, and without fear.
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