Dear present me,
Sentimental.
Miniscule.
Brisk.
If my senior year was a person, these would be the words to best describe it.
Four years ago, I didn’t think I would make it through high school.
Three years ago, I felt like I didn’t have the grades to get into college.
Two years ago, I wondered if I’d ever make it through my junior year.
And half a year ago, I started senior year.
I’m still in awe over the fact that we’re halfway done.
I can’t believe we’ve applied to 10 schools and have gotten accepted into all of them.
I can’t believe our cumulative GPA didn’t tank itself this year.
I can’t believe we didn’t fall into senioritis.
I can’t believe we graduate in 92 days.
But I want to believe it now. I want to relocate. I want a change of scenery; I want to start the next chapter of my life. I’ve been stuck in this one for too long, and I find it hard to start the next one.
I still remember all the names of the teachers I had online during my freshman year.
And I’ll never forget the time I met my online history teacher in person or the time I went to my first DECA and Model UN conference.
These are the most important plot points in the chapter of my life that I would like to name Interlude. It’s the chapter after middle school and the chapter before college. And it is because of these that I still cannot turn the page and start another chapter.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m ready to become a college freshman.
I’m ready to select my major.
I’m ready to set up my dorm room.
I’m ready to get out of Grand Rapids.
But I’m not ready to leave.
I’m not ready to leave the place I was born.
I’m not ready to leave all my friends.
And I’m certainly not ready to leave this chapter of my life because of how special it is to me, so why not reminisce on this chapter while I’m still in it?
This chapter begins at the very start of freshman year: a year that was unpredictable for me, to say the least, and the part of my life that still feels very hazy in my memory. It was a year full of missed opportunities, tears, and recondition.
Then entered sophomore year, the year of all the firsts. The first time I attended high school in person and went to my first Homecoming dance. But here’s the thing about high school: it’s starting to repeat itself.
I feel like I’m somewhat reliving this year. I’m back to taking one AP class, taking two clubs after school, working at the same place I always have been, and I am still on the school newspaper.
But not everything is the same. I’m not health-acclimated anymore, and instead of participating in the Science Olympiad and HOSA, I’m associated with DECA and Model UN, which has naturally made me more business-acclimated.
Instead of being a staff writer for The Central Trend, I’m also a Publicity Editor. Half of my friends are now high school alumni and successful college students, and my grandma now lives in India permanently.
Junior year was the year I tried out two new clubs and immersed myself in the realm of Business and what it had to offer. At just my first competition alone for DECA, I made it to states. That’s when I knew that business was the correct career choice for me.
This brings us to my final year of high school.
So to my senior year self, stay in this chapter as long as you can, because one day, you’re going to have to turn the page.
Sincerely,
present me
