Skip to content

Author: Marcello Burdis

A Letter to Myself in 20 Years

A Letter to My 39-Year-Old Self

by Marcello Burdis

To the future me-

Hello, you. You’re 39 now. Isn’t that awesome? You’re nearly 40, and you weren’t even sure if you’d make it to 18. 

I know you’ve had a hard life – your childhood was troubling and you began college with difficulty. But I also know that you’re succeeding and that you’re doing the best you can right now. Even if you don’t feel like you are succeeding, the fact that you choose to get up every day and do the things you must with the people you love by your side… that’s enough. I’m sure you’re progressing toward your goals steadily, you’ve reached the ones you’ve made in the past, and you’ve learned how to adapt to change and manage your emotions far better than when you were still a teenager. That’s an achievement in and of itself and one that I am in awe of.  

Things might not be perfect, but that’s okay. You’ll get through it, and you just have to remember to keep going no matter what. You and I know that things will get better because they have to. Life is a series of ups and downs, and that’s a fact that I’m learning to embrace. The downs can be pretty bad, though. I know that your depression is crippling and there are days where getting out of bed or finding the will to exist feels as heavy as the world did on Atlas’s shoulders. However, you continue onwards. Just like you did at 19. Just like you did at 29. Just like you are now.  Living with the scars of trauma and pain is difficult, but you do it bravely. And for that, I’m so incredibly proud of you.

Every birthday is another milestone because it represents your resilience. Your admirable determination and willingness to make your dreams a reality, no matter how tiresome it could be. You considered dying young a real fear for the majority of your childhood, and now look at you – you’ve overcome it. You’ve grown older. That’s something that not everyone with major depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder experiences. 

I hope that you have worked on building a family of your own, chosen or not, filled with love and faith. I remind you, in whatever you face in the future, to make your decisions in relationships with God in mind: He imbues on us the need to love one another, to show kindness and respect in all that we do and all that we say. I know you are mature and have wisened over the years, and I hope that you have worked on your mental state to be a healthier and better human being. I’m sure that you are sweet and caring, and that is something that must never change.

Also, you have been transitioning since you were 18. I still experience some dysphoria occasionally, but I’m sure you don’t anymore; that’s amazing, too. You could even talk to transgender people at my current age about your experience and guide others. That’s a beautiful thought, and I hope you consider it. You have faced so much discrimination and difficulty throughout your life, and I’m so happy that through it all, you’ve persevered. 

I love you, so very much. I love you more than words can describe. And… thank you.

Thinking about you gives me hope, too.


past you, January 2024.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *