Last week, I wrote an article for my 14-year-old self as a reflection of the last seven years of my life. It left me feeling empty and confused. Although I have come a long way in those years, I can't help but wonder how much will change in the next five years.

Who will I become? Who will I meet? What experiences are going to shape me?

Over the last year, I've come to terms with the fact that I have no control over The Man Upstairs' plans. But what I do have control over is how I respond to the things that are happening to me or, as I like to say, happening for me.

I have been telling myself over and over again that, in the next few years, I will be graduated, have a full-time job as a Registered Dietitian, and be successful (whatever that means).

The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. It is good to have plans, hopes, dreams, and goals. I am the first person to support your aspirations in life. But lately, my five-year plan has caused me more stress than it has been a helpful guide.

That is not okay.

So, here we go. In five years, I want to be happy.

I can hear you now; you're sitting behind your screen reading this and thinking, "Ha, alright girl, very cliché." You're right. You are absolutely right; it does sound corny. I even feel funny typing it. But why is that such an unattainable goal? Why are we all so afraid of doing the things that make us truly happy?

When I say truly happy, I mean unapologetically happy. The kind of happy that means waking up, looking out the window, and smiling. Not because it's sunny, but because God graced you with another day to make a difference in your life. That is the kind of happy I am striving for. The kind of happy that I don't need to explain to anyone.

The type of happy that radiates from you, whether you're walking around the supermarket or holding the door open for someone. There really is such a simplicity to true happiness. It needs no rhyme or reason, no explanation. When you reach that level of bliss, you view life differently. You can just be yourself without feeling that guilt of not "doing enough".

To my 26-year-old self, when you look back and read this, I hope you're proud of the person you have become. I hope you don't look back with any regrets. I won't be disappointed in you if you don't become a Registered Dietitian by now.

I don't hate the world because things didn't work out according to our plan. I won't resent you. I know you are doing the best you can. If you are happy, wherever you are, doing whatever you're doing, then thank you.

All I can ask is that you continue to strive every day for pure happiness. The kind of happiness that means being kind to yourself, in all ways. Not beating yourself up over every minuscule thing. Refusing to settle for anything less than what you deserve.

The girl right now typing this is having a hard time with all of those things, but she keeps fighting, every single day because she knows that you need her to be strong now in order for you to make sure she finds happiness in the future.