Dear Future Me: This Is Not What We Talked About

Summer break has officially hit, and I am bored out of my mind. So, like any bored 21-year old with too much free time, I started digging through old boxes in my house. Somewhere between old school books and random junk, I found a journal from when I was nine years old. 

Now, nine-year-old me had absolutely nothing profound to say, which is why the journal was basically just a giant book of questions about myself. It was incredibly self-centered. At one point, I even signed my own autograph. But tucked into the back of the journal was an envelope labeled: 

“DO NOT OPEN FOR TEN YEARS!” 

So naturally, I opened it immediately. 

Before I even got to the letter, there was a list of boys I apparently had crushes on. So, Theo, John K., and Uziel, if you’re reading this, congratulations, you almost made it. 

The letter was titled “Letter to My Future Self,” and reading it made me realize just how wrong I was about adulthood. To be fair, I was nine, but apparently I thought adulthood would be easy, involve no bills, and include me having a buttload of money.

The journal had fill-in-the-blank questions, so I decided to compare my answers from then to the answers I’d give now. 

“Ten years from now, you’ll probably be living in...” 

Then: “a big house” 
Now: “hopefully a place I can actually afford.” 

“Maybe you’ll be married to…” 

Then: “Uziel” 
Now: Married? Kids? I’ll only be 31. Relax. 

“I bet you’ll be a professional…” 

Then: “singer or actress” 
Now: “Do I actually have to work forever?” 

“How you will change in the next 10 years.” 

Then: “I’ll be rich and famous.” 
Now: Oh come on...I don’t remember being THAT clueless about the world.  

Looking back at these answers, I can’t do anything but laugh. Nine-year-old me was confident, and completely delusional. But honestly, I kind of admire her for that. She expected more from life. She dreamed big. 

At 21, though, I’m learning something different: how to appreciate what I already have. 

While going through those boxes, I found old medals, trophies, playbills, plane tickets, pictures, toys, and diaries. These little reminders that I actually have done a lot with my life already. For years, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished enough because I was so focused on what I still wanted. I was chasing “more” so hard that I forgot to appreciate everything I already had. 

So, even though nine-year-old Sarah would be dissatisfied with some of the things in my life, she also wouldn’t be able to hand the truth about Santa Claus so I think I’m okay.