Letter to My First-Year Self

To those who are just starting out or anyone standing on the edge of uncertainty, this letter is for you. But first, it is for me. 

Dear First-Year Alisson, 

You have no idea what is coming: the chaos, the clarity, and the quiet confidence that will slowly grow within you.  

You are stepping once again into a new country, a new academic system, and a new rhythm of life. You have done this before, as a migrant, as an international student, but this time will be different. It will demand more of you, more resilience, more softness, more honesty, but as much as it demands, it will give back tenfold.  

The air will feel unfamiliar. The winter darkness will hit harder than expected. Some days, you will wonder if you made the right choice, but let me tell you, you will come to realize that life is not about making the “right” decisions, but about what you do with what you have, exactly where you are. 

You will face real challenges. You will wrestle with self-doubt and the constant need to prove your worth. You will juggle assignments, part-time work, language barriers, and cultural differences. You will cry, but you will also laugh, deeply, freely, with a new set of beautiful souls who will become your chosen family: Tuti Tuti, Sury, Somesh, Sujey, and Dhanush.  

There will be rejections, yes, more than a few. You will feel disheartened, but do not lower your head. Keep showing up. Keep applying, keep knocking, keep believing in yourself. The doors that are meant for you will open, but only if you stay ready to walk through them. 

And that thesis you are worried about? Oh, girl. It will evolve a lot. Your topic will change more than once. Your methodology, your case study, even your academic lens will shift. You will fall in love with anthropology; wonder why you did not study it. You will realize that the beauty of research is not to be perfect, but to discover your truth. Research is messy, but eventually, you will find a way that not only reflects your purpose but above all uplifts your community. 

Fieldwork will take you to places, geographically and intellectually, you never imagined. You will walk into institutional spaces, speak with leaders, and feel more connected than ever to the land you call home. The process won't be linear, but it will build the foundation for your future work. 

You are still learning to rest without guilt. To pause, to ask for help, to admit when you are overwhelmed. There will be weeks when you cannot get anything done. That is not failure, that is life. And it is okay. 

Gradually, quietly, you will become someone you are proud of. Not because you checked all the boxes, but because you honored your path. 

Keep going. Trust the process, even when it is foggy. Especially when it is foggy. There is a reason you are here. 

With love and pride, 

Your future self