A note to my future-self...

When I was 20, I wrote a note to myself and told myself to open it on August 7, 2025.

I opened it. It was full of questions.

Would I be able to get what I want?

Would I ever be happy?

Would I ever find someone to love me?

Would I ever be famous?

Back then, fame felt like the answer to everything. Fame meant money. Fame meant validation. Fame meant I had made it. I wrote about my love for acting too, but even that dream was tangled up with recognition, prestige, and being known.

Reading it now felt tender. A little sad. A little proud.

Because I still don’t have the fame. I don’t have the big money. I haven’t properly begun the career I once thought I would already be in.

But something has shifted in a way my 20-year-old self could not have understood.

The fire is still there. The ambition is still alive. But the reason is different.

I had an epiphany recently while doing a self-tape. I realized that if I want this career only so people scream my name and know who I am, then I want it for the wrong reasons. Yes, don’t get me wrong, having those things would be amazing. But it is also very superficial and, in many ways, not authentic. Because real validation comes from within.

What feels real now is the craft.

The quiet work. The learning. The discomfort of not being good yet. The process of understanding a character, feeling something deeply, and disappearing into someone else’s world.

What matters is consistency, showing up every day when no one is watching.

At 20, I wanted to escape into acting so I wouldn’t have to face myself. Now, I want to do it because I want to meet myself more honestly through it.

Fame and money might come. They might not. But they are outcomes, not purpose. They are noise, not the music.

What I didn’t understand at 20 is that becoming takes time. That dreams are not just about desire, but about endurance. About staying when it’s quiet. About believing when there is no applause.

I am not where I thought I would be.

But I am closer to myself than I have ever been. More patient. More grounded. Less desperate to be seen, and more focused on becoming someone I respect.

And here I am today, five years later, leaving this note to my 30-year-old self:

One day at a time, one day at a time is all it takes. Keep going, keep showing up, even when it feels slow, even when nothing looks like it’s moving. Trust the process, the stillness, the small steps, the days no one sees. You don’t need the noise to know you’re on the right path. You don’t need anyone’s approval. Trust your inner voice and everything will align in the right time. Xx