You’re Worth the Wait: A Letter to the Girl Who Couldn’t See Her Future Yet by Jade

You’re Worth the Wait: A Letter to the Girl Who Couldn’t See Her Future Yet by Jade - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

If I could give one piece of advice to my past self, it would be this: Don’t rush to prove your worth. You are already enough, just as you are.

There was a time not long ago when I was constantly trying to be “enough” for everyone. I was the dependable daughter, the reliable friend, the overworked employee—even when I was emotionally running on empty. I thought if I just did more, stayed strong, and stayed quiet, maybe life would feel more stable. But behind the smile was someone exhausted, lost, and unsure how to ask for help. That version of me couldn’t see a future beyond survival. If I could go back and speak to her now, I would tell her something simple but life-changing: You don’t have to carry everything alone, and it’s okay to take your time.

When I became a mother, everything shifted. My son gave me a purpose I hadn’t felt in years, but also exposed the places in me that needed healing. I knew that if I wanted to raise him in a healthy and loving way, I had to start treating myself with the same love I was so ready to give him. For the first time, I began to ask not just “How can I provide?”—but “Who do I want to become?” That question led me back to school, back to a dream I thought I had to put on hold forever.

I’ve always had a heart for children. Before becoming a mom, I worked in childcare and early education settings. I loved watching little minds grow, loved being a safe person for a child having a hard day. But I also saw the gaps—kids dealing with trauma that no one talked about, behavior being punished when it was really a cry for help, parents struggling to balance it all without resources or support. I didn’t just want to be a babysitter or teacher—I wanted to understand what was going on beneath the surface. That’s why I chose to study Child and Adolescent Psychology. It’s personal to me. I want to become the kind of advocate and therapist I needed as a child—and that I now want for my own child, too.

If I could give one gift to my past self, it would be the peace I’m beginning to feel now. I’m not saying everything’s perfect. Balancing motherhood, school, finances, and healing is hard—some days feel impossible. But there’s a kind of strength that comes from finally trusting your own voice. From saying, “I matter, too.” From applying for scholarships not because I think I have it all together, but because I believe in the woman I’m becoming.

I would tell my past self: You are not failing because you’re tired. You are not falling behind because your path doesn’t look like everyone else’s. And you are not broken because you’ve been hurt. You’re learning. You’re becoming. And your timing is just right.

In fact, if I had rushed into college when everyone else did, I don’t think I would’ve appreciated it the way I do now. Back then, I might have gone through the motions. But now? Every discussion post, every textbook chapter, every grade—I’m doing it with purpose. I’m doing it for me and my son. I’m doing it for the future families I’ll help, the children I’ll work with, and the moms I’ll reassure that they’re not alone.

I may have started later, but I’m not late. I’m just on a different road—one that’s slower, maybe, but also deeper and more intentional.

To the girl I used to be: you don’t have to rush to become her. She’s already inside you. You just have to give her room to breathe, to grow, and to believe that she’s worth the wait.