Contributor: Law of attraction believer Tiffany
Whenever I become doubtful of my abilities to manifest what I want in my life through positive thoughts, I remember that I did this and I feel a little better about it all …
It was late April of my senior year of high school–over a year ago now. I was at the tail end, but still very much in, a deep clinical depression. My confidence, my lust for life, my courage–it all faltered uncharacteristically as I succumbed to the contrast surrounding me.
This was the cause: I wanted deeply to go to college in New York City. I’d gotten into both of my dream schools and my one “safety” as well. I’d become convinced the safety school was rinky-dink and a burden. In my mind, it was the worst possible option.
Because of the cost, though, my parents had very different ideas. Due to the conflict between us, I had stopped sleeping at night and would fret about which school to go to until I finally passed out.
One day, I came home particularly upset. I had recently endured a lecture from my father about what I should do, and it really got me down. I’d cried myself to sleep every night that week. I went through school as a zombie, wishing it would just solve itself.
Then, after a good, long cry, I straightened my cardigan and proclaimed to the universe (and my two dogs) that I was done with this problem.
“I can’t do this anymore. Fix it. F–ing fix this. ‘Cause I can’t do this anymore, and I honestly don’t even care.”
Feeling resolved, I walked over to the kitchen to grab a drink and replenish the tears I’d recently shed. As I passed the counter, I noticed a school stamp on one of the letters I’d casually retrieved from the mailbox earlier in the afternoon. I sipped my drink and plucked it from the pile.
The letter was addressed to me in what looked like a child’s handwriting. It was completely random, and oddly familiar. I ripped the envelope open and read the letter. The date at the top said January 24th, 2006. The letter began “Dear Me…” In a flash of memory, I realized I was receiving my time-capsule letter from myself in my 7th grade creative writing class. The teacher, as promised, sent the letters out five years after their inception, when we were seniors in high school instead of children in middle school.
In the letter, I rave and rant about how I loved my sister’s college (the safety school) and how I believed it would be simply perfect for me.
Time stood still as I slumped to the floor with tears of joy and relief. Months of anguish cured with a simple forgotten note.
I’ve just finished my first year at the “safety” college and I must say, I was right!! I love nearly everything about the school–the people are wildly interesting and I’ve made amazing friendships, the classes are compelling, challenging, and SO educational, the atmosphere is everything I could ask for, and my grades are STELLAR. I went to amazing parties, maintained an incredible GPA, and connected sincerely with people I’d previously only imagined.
I remember the days when I abhorred the idea of going here. Now? I couldn’t picture myself anywhere else. Everything about this school fits me to a T. It’s absolute perfection. I’m enjoying my summer off, working a great job, and I look forward with a heart full of love and passion toward my next semester there as a sophomore.
After Rachel and Matthew had their first child, they had a couple of fights. Well, okay, more than a couple—they fought for over three years. They fought about schedules. They fought about bad habits. They even fought about the lawn mower. And besides actually having their child, it was the best thing that could've happened. Get Fights You’ll Have After Having a Baby: A Self-Help Story on Amazon now.