A brutally honest letter about getting lost, finding clarity, and growing into someone you never expected – all thanks to Berkeley.
Hey Freshman Me,
You must be so excited. You’re going to Berkeley. You’re finally an adult. Free to make your own decisions. No one’s telling you what to do or how to live your life. No one’s watching your every move. It’s exactly what you imagined.
It feels like freedom — and it is. But it’s also a trap.
No one tells you how easy it is to get lost when there’s no one guiding you. Especially at Berkeley, where there’s just so much noise.
I mean that literally and figuratively.
At 18, you don’t really know who you are. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know what makes you happy. And worst of all, you don’t know how to figure that out.
But you will. Berkeley will stretch you. You’ll grow into someone who, right now, feels completely out of reach. Someone stronger. Someone clearer. Someone who’s actually proud of himself.
Right now, you’re probably thinking about parties, girls, new friends, new experiences. And yeah, you’ll get that. You’ll get a lot of that.
But Berkeley is so much more than what you’re expecting.
It’s confusing. It’s overwhelming. Especially for you — suburban boy.
You’ll hear sounds you’ve never been around before. Car honks. Screaming at night. Music randomly playing outside your window. Conversations that you don’t understand how to join. People yelling about politics, class, philosophy, identity — like it’s normal.
You’ll hear words that sound like another language.
Pronouns. Lived experience. Land acknowledgements. Structural inequality. Oppression. Startups. Seed rounds. FAANG. Consulting. Investment banking.
You’ll think, what the #e!! are they talking about?
You’ll spend late nights in your dorm Googling what these words mean, trying to understand. You’ll feel like you’re behind, like you missed some orientation everyone else got.
Some of your peers grew up speaking this language. Others didn’t. Some are first in their families to go to college. Some are third-generation Ivy League. You’ll hear people casually mention that their parents went to Stanford and Harvard. You’ll meet others who didn’t know what the SAT was until senior year.
You’ll feel privileged and unprivileged at the same time. Lost and in the loop. Smart and like a complete fraud.
What I wish I didn’t do was constantly feel like I had to catch up.
You’ll meet the overachievers. The triple majors. The internationals. The kids who interned at Google in high school. The one who sold their startup at sixteen. And yeah, you’ll feel like you’re not enough.
But you are.
You don’t need to prove your worth Your path is different. And that’s a good thing.
You’ll add a CS major to your Econ major just to prove you can. Then a year later, you’ll realize how much you hate coding projects. You’ll try to get consulting and investment banking internships your first year — not because you love the work, but because it seems like everyone else is doing it. You’ll burn out and realize that chasing the corporate script doesn’t lead to happiness.
You’ll realize that a prestigious job doesn’t mean much if you’re miserable.
And slowly, you’ll stop chasing validation. You’ll start chasing clarity.
You’ll build skills you never thought you had. You’ll explore paths that actually align with who you are. You’ll get inspired by mentors and classmates who open your mind. You’ll find yourself leaning into things that don’t always look impressive on paper — but feel right in your gut.
That’s what I mean by noise. It distracts you. It overwhelms you. But it also pushes you to figure out what actually matters.
That noise helps you grow.
Berkeley will help you figure out what you care about. What kind of life you want. It’ll show you how the world actually works — and how it doesn’t. It’ll sharpen your curiosity. It’ll give you the tools to ask better questions.
You’ll discover that your real passions aren’t prestige or clout. They’re people. Writing. Psychology. Mental health. Geopolitics. Culture.
You’ll find yourself in places you never expected. Building an AI startup. Having deep conversations with friends from countries you couldn’t even find on a map in high school. You’ll even save money to visit them.
You’ll become more than just a student. More than just a good American.You’ll become a citizen of the world.
And you’ll look back and realize… all of it was worth it.
Berkeley will wreck you and rebuild you. You’ll struggle, but it’s part of the process. You won’t regret it.
You’re going to become someone you’re proud of.
You got this. I know you do.
Love,
Kail (future you)