Serendipity

Today was the day I finally opened the letter I had written to myself ten years ago. It wasn't planned per se. I was going through our things, my husband's and mine—old habits die hard. I mean, my ex-husband's. It had been five hours since our divorce was finalized. From high-school sweethearts to lovers to strangers, and now, as I'm sitting in our old house packing, I came across the letter.My marriage wasn't the only thing falling lately I have been hit by a tornado of self doubt my once ambitious enthusiastic self have been falling into the horror comfort zone where I just did what did for just doing it .I know that's not a sentence construction expected from a journalist but yeah that's How bad it is.my social life has also detroriated since I'm cranky and grumpy all the time and also chasing the satisfaction that I never got ,feeling drained from day to day.The pills I gathered enticing, beckoned, promising an end to the pain, the crushing weight of failure. I was minutes away from ending it all.but maybe one last time let me read my younger self letter.
To My Future Self,
Eighteen! Can you believe it? I'm officially an adult, and honestly, it's both the most exhilarating and terrifying thing ever! Everything feels so wide open, full of possibilities, but also… incredibly daunting. There's this crazy pressure to have it all figured out  career, love, the whole shebang  and I'm just bursting with excitement and terrified all at once! Five-year plan? Ten-year plan? People keep asking, and I'm like, "Um, working on it? Maybe?" The truth is, the thought of having my entire life mapped out feels suffocating. I want to be surprised!
Right now, my dream is to be a journalist – a big-time journalist! Imagine – jetting around the world, interviewing fascinating people, writing stories that make a real difference! I can practically taste the adventure, feel the adrenaline rush of breaking news, the satisfaction of getting the scoop. It all sounds incredible! But there's this little voice in the back of my head, that quiet, nagging doubt... "Is this really what you want, Sunemayit? Or is it just what you think you should want?" That scares me a bit.
I'm so excited to get started, but what if I fail? What if I chase this dream and end up completely burnt out and miserable? What if I lose myself in the process? That's my biggest fear becoming someone I don't even recognize. I want to find my own path, even if it means taking some crazy detours along the way! I just hope I have the courage to follow it, wherever it leads.
And then there's love! Okay, I'll admit it, I have a massive case of fairytale-love-story-itis. Think rom-coms, meet-cutes, and happily-ever-afters. But I also know that real love is probably a little less… cinematic. I want a partner who sees me, really sees me quirks and all someone who cheers me on, someone who gets my weird sense of humor and supports my dreams, even if they're completely different from their own.
So, future sunem, when you read this, I hope you're happy. I hope you took some risks, even the scary ones. I hope you stumbled and fell and got back up, maybe a little bruised but definitely wiser. I hope you found your path and maybe even your fairytale (or something even better!). I hope you’re still excited about life, still full of that crazy, enthusiastic energy I have right now, but with a little more wisdom sprinkled in.
With a mix of fear and incredible excitement,
Sunemayit
I reread the passage where 18 year old me described her ideal life a life filled with meaningful connections, quiet moments of reflection, and the freedom to follow her passions without compromise. A chill ran down my spine, not of fear, but of profound recognition. This wasn't some distant, unattainable ideal. It was Here, my career, my hose ,my car,my friends,my ex-husband. Liam, who sat right here in this house a few hours ago, and with whom I'd shared laughter, dreams, and the slow erosion of trust caused by petty arguments and unmet expectations. Liam, the man who embodied every yearning, every desire, every hope my younger self had described. We’d become so blinded by the little things, the daily frustrations and misunderstandings, that we'd missed the big picture the profound depth of our connection, the strength of our love.
The five hours since the divorce felt like a lifetime. The feeling of being on the brink had lessened. The letter wasn't a reminder of what I’d lost; it was a map to what I’d almost thrown away. My perceived failures were actually opportunities for growth. My seemingly stalled career was a chance to find a meaningful path. And my divorce? It was the painful but necessary clearing away of debris to reveal the solid foundation of our love.
I grabbed my phone. My hands, though still trembling, were no longer leading me to self-destruction. They were dialing Liam’s number. The words I spoke were simple. “I have something to say. And I need to see you. Dinner? First date?”
I wasn't walking towards an end; I was walking towards a future I’d almost destroyed, but a future now brimming with a second chance, based not on a fairy tale, but on the hard-won wisdom of a letter from my 18 year old self.