Dear Class of 2025: Why You Don’t Need to Have It All Figured Out Yet
Each spring, we watch a new class step out into the world—wide-eyed, accomplished, and filled with both questions and quiet expectations. This season brings with it a chorus of voices: “Follow your dreams,” “Find your passion,” “Change the world.” But what if you don’t yet know what your dream is? What if the most meaningful thing you could do next is simply begin—faithfully, quietly, wholeheartedly?
At Petalume, we believe in slow beginnings and sacred callings—the kind you don’t always see right away, but sense in the steady work of showing up, creating beauty, and becoming who you were made to be. This letter is for the Class of 2025—and for anyone standing on the edge of what’s next.
Dear Class of 2025,
In the coming weeks, you’ll toss your caps into the sky and step out into what the world calls “real life.” You’ll hear a flood of voices—well-meaning, proud, and often rehearsed—telling you to follow your dreams.
Let me suggest something different: don’t.
At least, not yet.
Here’s why: most of you don’t really know what your dream is. That’s not a criticism—it’s a simple truth. You haven’t lived enough life yet. You haven’t failed enough times. You haven’t seen enough of the world or tested your strengths long enough to know what lights your soul on fire in a way that lasts longer than a trending career path or a graduation-day adrenaline rush.
You’re not behind. You’re just at the beginning.
The world will tell you otherwise. It will convince you that if you don’t land your dream job right after graduation—if you don’t know exactly where you’re headed and how fast you’ll get there—that you’re somehow off-track. Don’t believe it. There is no one timeline for purpose.
Instead, find work—any work—that allows you to show up, finish something, and go home having learned. Not every job will be glamorous. But any job can be formative. Whether you’re making coffee, building spreadsheets, teaching children, writing code, or working the register, let it teach you. Learn how to be reliable. Learn how to be excellent. Learn how to care about the small things when no one’s watching.
Because in the long run, the ones who become great are the ones who learn their craft. Who spend years—not weeks—mastering their discipline. Whatever you choose to do, your goal should be to become the best at it. Not the flashiest. Not the most followed. The best. And even then, leave room for your path to change.
You may think you know what you want now. But the truth is, you don’t know what your dream is yet. You don’t fully know what you love or what you’re good at. And most importantly, you don’t yet know—at least not completely—what God created you for. But He does. And if you stay close to Him, He’ll show you.
A few things to keep in mind…
And as you walk that journey, remember this: you are not in competition with anyone else. Someone else’s highlight reel has nothing to do with your path. You were never meant to chase their story. God made them for a different purpose than He made you.
So don’t compare. And don’t rush. The things that matter most—wisdom, purpose, resilience, clarity, faith—they take time. They take quiet seasons. They take patience, perseverance, and good old-fashioned hard work. They take surrender.
And don’t let the world’s definition of success trap you. The world will tell you it looks like money, titles, power, clout. But those things are fleeting. They don’t shape your soul. They don’t carry into eternity.
At the heart of your purpose is this: you were made to create for the glory of God and for the good of others. Not just art. Not just businesses. Not just products or strategies or spreadsheets. But something far deeper—something eternal.
You were made in the image of the Creator. That means you were made to bring life to what’s empty. To bring form to what’s formless, beauty to what feels barren, and hope to places where there’s been none.
Whether you ever hold a paintbrush or write a poem doesn’t matter. You can still be a creator. When you bring clarity to a confused situation, you’re creating order. When you build a safe place for someone else to belong, you’re creating goodness. When you design a process that makes a job easier or invent a tool that helps someone thrive, you’re creating something that improves the lives of others. And when you take the time to listen, to encourage, to heal, to serve—you are creating beauty in the deepest sense of the word.
This kind of creation doesn’t always get noticed. It doesn’t always come with a platform or applause. But it is holy and it is essential—not just to the world, but to your soul. Because the more you live aligned with your Creator, the more fulfilled you’ll feel. Creation is not just what you do—it’s how you reflect who God is.
So ask yourself, not just what you want to be, but what you want to build. Not just what job you want, but what kind of fruit your life will bear. Ask what you were made to create—and then start creating it. Not all at once. Not perfectly. But faithfully.
In the end, what you make of your life will have far more to do with what you cultivate than what you consume. So spend your life pouring out beauty, not chasing attention. Help restore, make peace, build, and bring light. Let your work—whether in homes or hospitals, offices or studios—be a vessel for truth and grace.
Because the goal isn’t just to be known. The goal is to honor and reflect the goodness of the One who knows you best.
And here’s the good news: you don’t have to have it all figured out to begin. You just have to begin. Show up. Work hard. Ask questions. Pay attention. Pray often. Take the next faithful step.
I promise you this: you will never feel more fulfilled than when you begin to live out God’s purpose for your life. Not someone else’s version of it. Yours.
So here’s to you, Class of 2025—not just for graduating, but for entering the slow, beautiful work of becoming.
Kristin
Founder, Petalume
May this letter be a gentle invitation to trade the rush for something richer. To pursue a life not of applause, but of purpose. One marked by faithfulness, curiosity, creativity, and grace.
From all of us at Petalume, here’s to the slow, beautiful work of becoming.
To cultivating what’s good.
To creating what brings light.
And to walking forward, one faithful step at a time.
With wonder,
Kristin, Olivia & Emme
