The letter

At 16, I dropped out of school. Everyone told me I was wasting my life, that I’d never make it without a diploma. For years, I believed them. I worked random jobs stocking shelves, washing cars, delivering newspapers. Every time I introduced myself, I felt the need to explain why I wasn’t studying.

One day, while cleaning out my drawer, I found a letter I had written to myself at 12. It said: “One day, you will help people feel less alone.” Reading it, I cried. I had forgotten that dream, buried it under shame and insecurity.

That letter pushed me to try again. I enrolled in evening classes. It was humiliating at first being the oldest student in a room full of teenagers. But slowly, page by page, I rediscovered my voice.

Today, I’m 29 and I work as a social worker. I help kids who feel lost, just like I once did. And every time I see their faces light up when they feel understood, I think back to that little letter.

It reminds me that sometimes, the promises we make to ourselves as children are the ones worth fighting for.

- Moes