At thirteen you think you have everything figured out.
You’ve got these big dreams and even bigger ambitions. Your future plans are typed out, taped into a notebook – your equivalent of set in stone – and you think you’re ready for whatever’s coming.
The plan is to finish high school with all A’s and then dive right in to a journalism degree. You think you’ll work for a newspaper, write words that change the world, live in an apartment with French windows and a view of the ocean. You want to meet a boy who likes symphonies as much as you do and sip caffeinated drinks until the hills become the sun’s graveyard –
But the truth is, these things won’t happen.
Most of these plans won’t materialise. (And you’ll realise you don’t actually want them to.)
Something is going to happen in a few years that’ll change everything and when it does you’ll rip the notebook to pieces and spend months feeling unmotivated and unproductive. You’ll doubt yourself incessantly, eat a lot of ice-cream and bury yourself in schoolwork so that you don’t have to think about anything else.
And then you’ll pick yourself up. You’ll emerge from your mountain of textbooks, stop caring so much about your goal for A’s and end up pretty close to achieving it anyway, you’ll disregard the journalism degree entirely and re-discover why you love writing so much.
You’ll stop drinking as much coffee (thank goodness), forget the ocean view (because you’ve never really liked the beach) and learn that the world is too big to limit yourself to a list of goals you have written on a piece of paper.
To summarise: you’re going to be fine.