So my senior high school Literature teacher has just asked us to complete one of these essays as well as write a letter to ourselves that we will get mailed back in four years. Of course I picture myself writing the great American Novel filled with vivid descriptions of my life and advice that will some how be able to get me out of whatever trouble I find myself in four years from now. But as I sat writing out this letter, I frequently notice how blank the page is.
Everything I choose to write about, the difficult relationships I’m having with my parents, my dreams and goals as well as my fears feels like a lie as I write it on the paper. I can’t bring myself to write that I am mad at my father for completely ignoring my opinions saying that I should respect him as I am his daughter. Nor can I bring my self to copy on paper the hurt feeling of hearing your dad and grandparents and brother literally laughing at you when you tell them your well thought out plans to study abroad in Italy and spend the summer backpacking through Europe.
I’m coming to realize that though I’ve considered my life blessed and happy thus far, I have been stuck in many of these situations that I choose not to remember and record. I think that’s what allows you to be a happy person. It’s not the issues you deal with and the hard times you get through, but the ability to push that aside as “having a bad day” and making the good things the memories you choose to keep. This way I believe, anyone can find true happiness.