Dear 25-Year-Old Me,

Right now, at 17, my life feels like a storm-tossed ship, adrift on a sea of emotions, dreams, and uncertainties. As I write this, I yearn for reassurance that everything will eventually align. It’s almost as if I hope you could write back to me, easing my fears and confirming that the future holds something brighter.

I imagine you living in a city we always dreamed about, perhaps in an elegant apartment with large windows overlooking the bustling streets or a charming house in a peaceful town where life moves slower. Wherever you are, I trust it feels like a true home, a sanctuary where you can find inspiration and solace.

Did you get into the university in New York with your best friend? Right now, studying in such a vibrant city fills me with excitement and hope, like a lighthouse guiding me through the fog. I wonder if you’re walking those streets, surrounded by the energy and diversity that New York is famous for. Have you found supportive and loving buddies like the ones in Friends who make the city feel even more like home?

Love, at 17, is a mysterious and elusive force, like a butterfly that flutters just out of reach. The pain of unrequited love and the confusion of mixed signals weigh heavily on my heart. I hope by now, you’ve experienced a steadfast, compassionate, and unwavering love. There’s this boy now who seems special. Is he the one? Remember the secret phrase we created with God, the one that boy has to say for you to know he’s truly the one? Has anyone whispered it yet, like a secret key unlocking your heart?

Is writing still your refuge? Writing has always been our sanctuary, a way to make sense of the chaos inside. I hope you’ve continued to pour your heart into words. Writing is where we confront our deepest fears and express our greatest hopes. Never let that go.

At 17, life is a series of what-ifs and maybes. The uncertainty is daunting, like standing on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if you’ll fall or fly. But I hold onto the hope that things will get better. I hope you’ve found moments of profound contentment that make all the pain worthwhile, like the calm after the storm.

Lastly, I hope you’ve learned to be gentle with yourself. We’ve always been our harshest critic, feeling like we’re never enough. I hope you’ve embraced the person you’ve become, like a flower blooming after a harsh winter.

With all my love and hope,

17-Year-Old You