Yhem Speaks

What will your life be like in three years?

Dear three years from now,

I’m not here to predict you. You’ve probably learned by now that life doesn’t follow neat timelines or perfect plans. It just happens, beautifully and unexpectedly.

So instead of writing a list of where I hope you are, I’ll write a few things I hope you still remember.

I hope you still start your mornings with a small moment that belongs only to you and always be thankful to God while having a quick look at a window view like you always do before the world begins asking for your attention.

I hope you still laugh easily, not because life got simpler, but because you learned to take things lightly. That you know now how to pause, how to say “not today,” and how to protect your peace without guilt.

I hope home feels broader. Maybe it’s still the same city, maybe not. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s home. I hope you’ve learned that home isn’t a fixed place. It’s the rhythm of your days, the people you choose, the calm you create when everything else feels uncertain.

I hope your work makes sense to you. Meaningful enough that you end each day feeling like you gave a piece of yourself to something that matters.

Finally, if things still feel unclear, that’s okay too. You’ve always been good at finding your way even when you didn’t know you were.

You don’t need to have things figured out every time.

Just keep doing your best.

Keep remembering who you are.

Keep living deeply.

Love from me, writing this letter in November 2025 from somewhere between what was and what’s next.