Who wrote these letters?

Letters written by no one in particular, yet perhaps by all of us. JULIE K.

LETTER 01 To the Child Who Thought Adulthood Was Freedom Dear little one, I know you couldn't wait to grow up. You probably thought adulthood was some beautiful place where nobody told you what to do, where you could eat whatever you wanted, sleep whenever you pleased and make all your own decisions. You imagined freedom as waking up one morning and realizing that, finally, nobody was in charge of your life but you. Well, congratulations. Nobody is coming to remind you to drink enough water, go to bed early, save money or stop making questionable decisions. You are now responsible for all of that. I wish I could tell you that growing up is everything you imagined. In some ways, it is. You get to choose your clothes, your friends, your meals and sometimes even the direction of your life. You discover places you never knew existed, meet people you never expected to love and experience moments that make you grateful to be alive. But there are things nobody mentions when they ask what you want to become when you grow up. Nobody tells you that some mornings you will wake up tired before the day has even begun. That making decisions can become exhausting when every choice seems to come with consequences. That you might spend an entire afternoon trying to figure out something that seemed so simple when you were younger. Nobody tells you that you can miss being a child while simultaneously being grateful that you are no longer one. And perhaps the funniest part is that you will occasionally find yourself wishing someone else could make the decisions for you. The same decisions you once desperately wanted the freedom to make. You will learn that freedom is not always doing whatever you want. Sometimes it is doing what needs to be done even when you would rather be somewhere else. Sometimes it is saying no when everyone expects a yes. Sometimes it is accepting that you cannot afford something, cannot attend everything or cannot be everything to everyone. You will also discover that adulthood has an unusual sense of humour. You can spend years wishing to have your own money, only to receive it and immediately discover that it already has several responsibilities waiting for it. Apparently, money has places to be before you do. But I don't want you to think that growing up is a punishment for having once been young. There is beauty in it, too. There is something wonderful about discovering that you can survive situations you once thought would break you. About realizing that you can change your mind, start again, learn something new and become someone you didn't know you could be. You will make mistakes. Some will be small enough to laugh about later. Others will teach you lessons you wish you could have learned differently. You will meet people who make life easier and others who make you question your understanding of people altogether. You will lose things, find things and occasionally lose things you didn't even know you had. And through it all, I hope you remember the child who once thought growing up meant finally having everything figured out. Because it doesn't. You are allowed to be an adult and still be confused. You are allowed to have responsibilities and still need reassurance. You are allowed to be independent and still wish somebody would occasionally ask whether you are okay. You don't have to become so grown that you forget how to enjoy the little things. Please, keep some of that childhood wonder. Laugh loudly. Be curious. Get excited about ordinary things. Allow yourself to be silly without feeling that you have somehow failed at being mature. And when life becomes too serious, remember that you were once a child who thought having your own bedtime was the greatest achievement imaginable. I hope you never become too busy to find joy in the freedom you once dreamed about. With affection, Someone who finally grew up, but is still figuring it out. 03

LETTER 02 To the Years That Passed Without Asking Dear years, You really didn't have to rush. I don't remember giving you permission to move so quickly. One moment I was making plans for a future that seemed so far away, and the next, I was looking back wondering when so much time had passed. You took birthdays, ordinary afternoons, familiar faces and little moments I never thought I'd miss. You turned yesterday's worries into distant memories and yesterday's dreams into things I sometimes struggle to remember. It's strange how we spend so much time waiting for certain days to arrive, only to wish we could revisit them once they're gone. I remember thinking I had plenty of time. Time to call someone back, visit a place, learn something new, take a chance or simply enjoy a moment without worrying about what came next. Apparently, "someday" is a very unreliable date. But I suppose I cannot blame you for everything. Some of those years passed because I was too busy preparing for life to notice that I was already living it. I postponed happiness until things became easier. I waited for the perfect moment, the right circumstances and a version of myself who had everything figured out. And while I was waiting, you kept moving. Still, I don't want to…