There’s so much I want to tell you, but I honestly don’t know where to start. Here’s one cliché piece of advice, though: don’t stress too much over your academics. I must admit your GPA is quite significant in the college application process, and yes, I see you are currently struggling to find the college that suits you. Yet after all, sometimes, I’m glad you made the decisions you did. When you are young with unlimited resources, explore what you can—whether that be trying out different clubs or traveling with your family. Who knew you would end up taking—not one, but two—AP Science courses, right? Maybe there is a talent you disregarded, blinded by your passion for writing. 

Remember how you joined that one club you were completely unaware of and simply attracted to because the officer turned on Big Bang music at the club fair? A foolish decision, but don’t regret it. I’m proud to see that you’ve persisted in that club, despite the never-ending train of classmates coming and leaving. Look where you’ve come. I never imagined you as a leader, especially for a group of high schoolers, but now, I find you everywhere. From the school-wide broadcast system to giving lessons on filming, you’ve achieved more than I’ve expected. I wouldn’t have even dreamed of you volunteering to coach immature middle schoolers. I know you’re an introvert that acts all confident and bright in front of others, but really is merely a child trying to keep up with societal expectations. 

Hey, but some people don’t even describe you as an introvert anymore. I heard a teacher ask you, “You’re not an introvert?” Personally, I would take that as a compliment. On the other hand, I wonder if you can branch out more. Since you no longer shy away from anyone in your grade, can’t you help others? Allow them to settle down with you in the lunch table, not restricting yourself to your “safe friend boundaries.” You’ve been here for at least nine years now, it should feel like your second home. The worst that can happen from lending a hand is making a new friend to hang out with, isn’t it? You never know until you sit with that kid who eats alone at a separate lunch table. 

Also, I sincerely question why you are so ashamed of expressing your interest in someone. It’s not abnormal for a puberty-stricken high schooler to fall for someone you have six classes with. It happens. Just don’t spend another five hours calling your friends about how to say “hi” or wave to him—that’s what I call useless. In fact, you know you’ve made the right choice when you’ve stopped sobbing alone on the edge of your toilet. I can guarantee that a few sweet words work better than pills for depression. Regardless, it’s true that the small, careless gestures were meaningless to him. Being controlled like a puppet by those actions—weeping because he replies a few hours late or jumping around all day due to his smile—was heartbreaking, I know. You’ve matured through encountering those roses and thorns, and that’s all that matters to me now. 

By the way, promise me to keep healthy. Handling scoliosis, without a personal trainer to remind you to stretch every so often, is not easy. Keep swimming. You’re a captain soon, so you better prepare to lead others anyway. If you can’t spend hours in the pool, give yourself a ten-minute break to squeeze in some push-ups between your work time. It seriously matters. As my dad always says, it all comes down to your endurance. 

Before you set out on another journey, another year of unexpected happenings, I want you to take a step back and note how far you’ve come. A letter of encouragement, because I know in the next few months, I’ll find you sobbing on the edge of your toilet again. Living under the protection of your parents, you’ve escaped their nest for the first time this summer, arriving at America on your own. Not a big deal, but I was worried. Look, you’re still an imperfect teenager seeking for the right time to join the right people at the right place. This is only the start, and you’ve got plenty of time. 

Looking at my reflection right now, somehow you’ve grown—no, not physically—and it shows.

Until the Bloom,

Jeongeun Jennifer Kim