The Graduate: Dear Future Me,


Dear Future Me,

I hope you are well. This is you, at 22, writing a blog post to inquire about your life, tell you about mine, and perhaps motivate you to do bigger and better things than you’ve already accomplished, to always strive for more.

First, do you still drink three teas a day? I don’t think it’s good for you. Sometimes, the caffeine makes you nauseous. When this happens, I hope you still hydrate and take (*dramatic gasp*) a few days off tea.

It is 2016 and I am about to graduate from UTM. I feel conscious of time, because I remember graduating from high school like it happened last night. I remember wearing tall black heels and a leopard-print A-line dress and shaking hands with the principal at Brampton Centennial Secondary, receiving an Ontario Secondary School Diploma to-go.

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Some Thoughts During My Third Year Crisis

Kimberly Johnson

I had a conversation with an adult recently that just got on my nerves. If I’m honest, I wasn’t mad at him – I was mad that I couldn’t answer him.  This was his question:

“Oh, you’re an English major. What do you want to do with that?”

I responded with something like:

“Oh, uh…I’m not too sure yet.”

And I was pissed… and pretty disappointed. See, I actually want to be a writer – a novelist specifically – but I am crap out of my mind scared to mention that to “practical minded adults with real jobs.”

I feel like as a culture, we tell others:

       “Do what you love!”

When what we really mean is:

“Do what you love as long as you make some serious money.   Otherwise, do other things.”

This worries me. I don’t ever want to work a dead end job. I really (call me juvenile) want to be one of those people that actually love what they do. I just don’t want to be stuck. Now I realize as I write this, it’s not like people wanted their dead end jobs…actually the term ‘dead end’ is pretty judgmental.

I am saying this though: I want to do something with my life that makes me happy. I just don’t want to wake up thirty years from now, dissatisfied with life.

So what’s my point? I guess I’m honestly saying, my future makes me nervous… And I don’t know how to be cool about that, but maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. If I’m looking for some kind of lesson out of this feeling, it’s this: the first step is to unapologetically say what you want out of life. So…

Dear man at the beginning of this post,

Hi! My name is Kim. I want to be a writer…novelist specifically. I want to write something that matters someday to someone. That’s pretty risky financially – I get that – but I want a crack at it. Why? Because I want more out of my life than stability.