One of the best-known writing exercises in psychology asks you to imagine your life a few years from now, after things have gone well, and to write about it. It is called the best possible self exercise, and it turns up in wellness apps, classrooms and worksheets.
The instruction is short: picture your life a few years from now, after things have gone about as well as they realistically could, and describe it. Written as a letter, the exercise gains a reader. On the date you choose, we email it to the person you pictured, and they can see how close you came.
How to write it
Choose a date one to five years ahead. Imagine that you reach it, and that things have gone as well as they realistically could, through effort, not luck. Then write to that person in the second person, as though they were already living it.
Write for about 15 or 20 minutes without stopping, one short paragraph for each area of life. Keep the tone plain. You are describing a future you can imagine walking toward, not a fantasy.
The study asked for four sessions on four days. A letter is one sitting. Treat it as the short version of the exercise, not a replication of it.
If you want something closer to the study, write a fresh draft on four evenings in a row, about 20 minutes each, and send only the last one. The earlier drafts are practice, and you do not need to keep them.
Prompts that keep it concrete
Vague brightness is the main risk. “I am happy and successful” tells your future self nothing. These prompts push you toward details:
- What time do you wake up on a workday, and what do you do in the first hour?
- Where do you live, and what is the first thing you see when you wake up?
- What work are you doing, and what do you do at lunch?
- Who is in the room at dinner?
- What do you do with your body: walk, swim, stretch, rest?
- What are you learning, and what are you finally letting go of?
- What is one thing that went wrong and turned out all right?
A realistic future still has setbacks, and writing one in keeps the letter honest.
Who it suits, and who it does not
The exercise suits people who like to picture things and who want a way to turn a vague hope into a few specific lines. It is less comfortable for people who are in a hard stretch and find any bright picture hollow. If that is you, try the smaller version: describe just one good ordinary day six months from now.
It is also fine to stop. If the writing makes you feel worse, put it down. A letter is a tool, and you can pick a different one.
Where the exercise comes from
In 2001, Laura King published a study called “The Health Benefits of Writing about Life Goals” in the Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin. It was a variation on James Pennebaker's well-known writing studies.
Eighty-one undergraduates wrote for 20 minutes a day on four consecutive days. They were randomly assigned to write about their most traumatic life event, their best possible future self, both topics, or a neutral control topic. Mood was measured before and after writing, and health center records were collected with consent.
What the study found
Writing about life goals was significantly less upsetting than writing about trauma. Three weeks later, it was associated with an increase in subjective well-being. Five months after writing, a significant effect appeared: people who wrote about trauma, their best possible self or both had fewer illness visits than the control group.
The author's conclusion was that writing about self-regulatory topics, in other words, about how you hope to steer your life, can be associated with the same health benefits as writing about trauma.
Honest limits
Be careful not to stretch this. King's sample was 81 students at one university, and illness was counted through health center visits over a few months. Later researchers have tried the exercise many times. A 2019 review by Carrillo and colleagues in PLOS ONE pooled 29 of those studies, with about 2,900 participants, and found small to moderate improvements in well-being, optimism and positive mood compared with control tasks.
It also measured associations over months, not what will happen to any one person. Nothing here shows that writing a letter will make you healthier or happier. What the research supports is more modest: writing about your hopes appears to be a gentle, low-cost exercise that many people find less upsetting than writing about their hardest memories.
What the letter adds
The classic exercise happens on a page you keep to yourself. A letter changes it in two ways. First, it has a recipient. When you write to the person who will be living the life you describe, the writing shifts from daydream to message, and you start to think about what they will want to know.
Second, it has a date. We email it to you on the day you chose, and you can hold your hopes up against the life you actually have. Some of what you wrote will have come true, and some will have changed shape so much you barely recognize it.
Write a description, not a contract
A good best possible self letter does not demand anything. Avoid writing “you must be a person who…” and avoid listing results as though your future self owes you them. The tone is closer to a description than a contract.
Watch for pressure. If the letter starts to feel like a test you could fail, shorten the distance or soften the details. You can also include a line that says “If things look different, that is fine.” The goal is to see what you hope for, not to hold yourself to it.
Sending it
We email the letter on the date you choose, between 8:00 and noon in your time zone. A saved letter cannot be edited or cancelled, so write what you want to read later. Nothing is emailed when you write, so keep a copy if you like, and remember that letters are stored as plain text.
When it arrives, read it twice. The first time, just notice how it feels. The second time, mark what has happened, what is on its way and what has quietly dropped out. Then consider writing a new one for the next few years.
A letter from three years on
Dear future me,
It is a Wednesday three years from now and you are on the early shift, but it is the shift you chose. The trade certificate is on the wall, a little crooked. You finish at two and walk home along the canal. Dinner is at six with your brother's family, and there is a loud argument about football. Not everything worked: the first exam went badly and you nearly quit. You did not. I hope the knees still work.
[your name]
Write it now
Choose a date a few years ahead, and picture an ordinary day when things have gone well. Use the prompts above to write one paragraph for each part of your life. Add one thing that went wrong and turned out fine, and send it.
