Hey Sophomore Me,
You’ve made your class schedule. You know your way around.You know what to expect — and that’s the scary part.
There’s no more novelty to distract you. Just the big questions that keep creeping in:
Am I in the right major?
Am I on the right path?
What if I’m making a mistake and don’t realize it until it’s too late?
That’s the part no one tells you about college:
It’s not just the pressure to do well — it’s the quiet, constant fear that you might be building a life that isn’t actually yours.
I felt it deeply when I decided to drop my CS major.
I knew how lucrative it was. I knew the doors it opened. I knew people would be impressed.But every project made me feel frustrated, drained, and disconnected.And after a year of trying to power through, I had to face the truth:
I didn’t hate CS because it was hard. I hated it because it wasn’t me.
I chose it to feel impressive. To feel like the “big fish.”To be someone whose success was obvious to others — even if it didn’t feel honest to me.
I was following the script.The one that said, do what’s impressive, do what pays well, do what people respect.
But I wasn’t asking:
What do I actually want?What excites me?What kind of life do I want to build?
Dropping CS wasn’t just dropping a major — it was dropping the need to be validated by everyone but myself.
And while you’re doing all this inner work, your outer world changes too.Sophomore year is when a lot of friendships fade. You move out of the dorms.You're not bumping into people at breakfast or walking to class together anymore.You start to realize: some friendships were built on convenience, not connection.
And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean those friendships didn’t matter.It just means you’re growing — and not everyone grows in the same direction.
You’ll also start to see your high school friendships fade — the ones who swore you'd keep in touch forever.Some will try, but most won’t. Some will stay exactly the same while you keep evolving.Some will become even more amazing than you remember.A few rare ones will meet you where you’re at now — not where you were back then.
It’s okay to grieve those changes.To feel a quiet sadness when the people who used to be your whole world slowly become strangers.That includes old freshman college friends who only stayed close because they lived down the hall.It includes the high school best friend who slowly stops replying.And it includes the version of yourself who once believed every friendship would last forever.
You don’t need to carry guilt for growing.You don’t need to cling to a bond that only lives in memory.What matters will find a way to stay. The rest made sense for a season — and that’s enough.
Let them go with love.And let yourself move forward.
As all this unfolds, you’ll realize something big:
The most important person in your life is you.Not your classmate, not your group chat, not the person with the perfect résumé or the loudest opinion.
So take advice — but filter it.Apply what resonates, but know where to draw the line.
Not every piece of advice is wisdom. Some of it is projection. Some is fear. Some is ignorance dressed up as certainty.
If you don’t learn to hear your own voice through the noise, you’ll end up living someone else’s dream.
You’ll confuse imitation for clarity. Performance for purpose.You’ll spend your college years checking boxes for a life that doesn’t actually fulfill you.
It’s okay not to have it all figured out.But it’s not okay to lie to yourself and pretend you do — when the plan you’re following was never really yours.
Sophomore year is when you stop trying to “keep up” and start asking:
Do I even want what I’m chasing?
That’s where the shift happens.That’s when the real growth begins.
You start making choices that come from your gut, not your fear.You begin to care less about being impressive — and more about being aligned.You stop asking what looks best — and start asking what feels right.
And even if you don’t realize it now — this version of you, right here, right now — is already becoming someone you’ll be proud of.
So to sophomore me, and anyone reading this who feels behind, confused, or like they’re the only one still figuring it out:
You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re not lost.
You’re just becoming.
Keep going.
Love,
Kail (Future You)