It has been just over two months since I graduated from college. That beautiful Sunday in May will forever live in my mind as one of the proudest and most surreal moments of my life, unfolding before me as if in slow motion. I remember getting up [very] early, getting dressed, taking photos with my roommates, and all of us scurrying out the door of our apartment for the last time as undergraduates. I can still envision the long walk up to the commencement site; flanked by tall trees that have seen many graduates off into their futures, I recalled the first time I ever trekked that path. It was the day of my freshman-year orientation. I was nervous, shy and overwhelmed by the heat of that 90+ degree day, the exhaustion of walking around the hilly campus, and the sheer newness of it all.
And then there I was, walking that same path four years later, donning a graduation cap and gown with four honor cords around my neck to mark the culmination of my academic efforts. As I thought about my time there, we continued to process toward our final destination; I saw professors who turned into mentors and friends, hugging me and cheering me on as I was walking toward the edge of the proverbial nest, ready to jump and test my wings. "Pomp and Circumstance" began, my fellow graduates and I continued onward, past family and friends and toward our final destination: the stage we'd have to cross to get that all-important piece of paper. It was finally my turn; I crossed the stage, shook hands, reached for my diploma, and walked back to my seat. Just like that, my undergraduate career was over.
This moment feels like it was both yesterday and ages ago — a dream. An ephemeral moment that only happened in my imagination. Yet, I know intellectually that it's all over. There are some people I will likely never see again, while there are others that I already miss more than my heart can take. In many ways, I also miss who I was then; I miss feeling necessary, as if every day I was on a mission that was my job to complete. I miss waking up in the morning and knowing that my day was going to be full of twists, turns, challenges, and triumphs — how funny it is that I now long for the very thing that I would sometimes complain about!
I presume this desire for a purpose is in full bloom now because I do not yet have a job, one of the most difficult things I currently face. Day after day, I apply to countless positions, and day after day, I get no response, leaving me stranded in the vast expanse of an unknown future. It forces me to acknowledge that I am no longer "That University Girl," but instead "That In-Between Girl," stuck in the not-quite, the not-yet, the might-be.
It's difficult for someone like me — someone who thrives on definites, 100-percents, concretes — to accept being in a place that is indefinite, murky, and unsettled. Part of me tries to maintain hope, to stay positive as I await my next adventure; but the more I am greeted by inaction, I grow increasingly anxious that being in this in-between state will become permanent. That the promise that I graduated with will dissipate, and the rest of my life will never get started. That I will always just be hoping for something that will never come.
In many ways, I am reminded of the play by Samuel Beckett, "Waiting for Godot." In "Godot," the two main characters perpetually await the arrival of Godot, who ultimately never makes an appearance. What if I am Vladimir or Estragron, the duo who anticipate Godot's arrival, and the career and the life I so crave — my Godot — never show up? What if I am left wondering what could have happened, what could have been for the rest of my life?
Maybe I am just being dramatic. Maybe one day, I will read this post again, laugh, and go back to my wonderful job and my wonderful life. Maybe everything I could every want is right around the corner. Maybe my story won't be like Beckett's fictional tale. Maybe my Godot will actually show up.
I hope so — and soon.
XO,
That In-Between/University/Job-hunting Girl
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Fear of Flying
Planes take off every day from different airports around the country; countless passengers board their planes, knowing exactly where they are going, and then find their seats and get ready for takeoff. They buckle their seat belts, listen to the safety lecture, and soon they are heading down the runway. The engine revs, the plane gains speed as it lifts off the ground, the wheels go up, and suddenly, the plane is in the air; it's off the ground and on its way to its destination. While the flight may be a little rough as it breaks through the clouds or passes over a storm, it usually evens out and soon enough, it lands.
I've flown quite a bit in my life thus far, and I'm used to the process. I've packed my bags, left home, and travelled miles, but each time, I am tense during takeoff and relieved when the plane lands, excited to take on whatever adventure lies before me. But lately, I've grown more timid of flying. I know people fly every day. I know people reach their destinations. I know that people will continue to travel no matter how bumpy their flights may be. I know many people are scared of flying but do it anyway. Right now, however, I'm not sure how I feel about flying — especially now that I'm unsure of my destination.
Every time I've travelled before, I've known exactly where I'm going and when I'm expected to arrive. I may have been slightly indecisive in deciding my ultimate destination, but I had select options and I generally had an idea of what I wanted to experience and do when I got there. But it's different now. I can make all the plans I want, yet nothing is guaranteed. I can know exactly what I want, but that doesn't mean that's what I will get. I may know exactly where I want to go, but it may take a month, a year, or many years to get there.
This doesn't sound like air travel, does it? That's because I was never talking about flying on airplanes to begin with.
I am over a week away from graduating college, and I can't say I'm handling it well. Between the sadness I feel over having to leave a place I have (surprisingly) come to think of as home and the anxiety I feel over not know what my next destination is, I am a bundle of mixed emotions. Yes, in some respects, I am excited about the prospects of a new beginning, but in many ways, this new beginning is what gives me the most pause.
Every time I moved from one life moment to the next, the next steps were always clear: from elementary school and middle school came high school, and then after high school came college. But what's after college? A job, hopefully, but what job? Will it be something I've always wanted — my dream job? Will it be just "a job" to earn some money? Will it be a job that's just OK but something that will give me the experience I need to reach my ultimate goal?
And what about my friends? Some already have jobs, but those jobs require them to move away. Will I ever see them again? Will we keep in touch like we said we would? What about my non-work life? In college, my non-work time was spent with activities and clubs that were all in the little microcosm of my university where I met like-minded people; where will I find those people now that I won't be there? Where and how will I find "my people"? How will I find companionship? Will I find someone —anyone — who understand me, or will I just be floating out in the world alone?
In each phase of my life, the years ahead of me seemed manageable because I knew generally what was coming. I knew that I would face four years of high school and four years of college. Now, I face the rest of my life, and right now, it looks pretty nebulous. It's amorphous; it has no shape, no structure, no definites. In many ways, I've taken those things for granted, even thinking of them negatively as I craved the opportunity to just do as I pleased. But now I can do as I please and all I want is structure, definites, sure things. I want to know all of my destinations in my life, and all of the passengers that will fly with me on this journey, but I don't. I can't know those things until I actually graduate and get on the plane and begin my travels.
I know people graduate from college each year. Some know exactly where they are going while others only have a dream, a hope. Yet, all graduates get ready for takeoff — there's no safety lecture on this trip — and hope for the smoothest flight possible. Some seem to never hit turbulence while others undoubtedly do. But somehow, everyone lands on their feet in some way, maybe not at the destination they hoped or in the way they planned, but they still find a comfortable place to land.
I don't know what's coming for me or when. I don't know where I'm going or how I'll get there. All I know is that I am scheduled to leave 'home' in over a week, and I'm scared. I'm scared that instead of taking off, I'll be stalled on the ground. That instead of reaching my desired destination(s), I'll aimlessly wander. That instead of flying, I'll fall. But then again, what if I fly?
I've flown quite a bit in my life thus far, and I'm used to the process. I've packed my bags, left home, and travelled miles, but each time, I am tense during takeoff and relieved when the plane lands, excited to take on whatever adventure lies before me. But lately, I've grown more timid of flying. I know people fly every day. I know people reach their destinations. I know that people will continue to travel no matter how bumpy their flights may be. I know many people are scared of flying but do it anyway. Right now, however, I'm not sure how I feel about flying — especially now that I'm unsure of my destination.
Every time I've travelled before, I've known exactly where I'm going and when I'm expected to arrive. I may have been slightly indecisive in deciding my ultimate destination, but I had select options and I generally had an idea of what I wanted to experience and do when I got there. But it's different now. I can make all the plans I want, yet nothing is guaranteed. I can know exactly what I want, but that doesn't mean that's what I will get. I may know exactly where I want to go, but it may take a month, a year, or many years to get there.
This doesn't sound like air travel, does it? That's because I was never talking about flying on airplanes to begin with.
I am over a week away from graduating college, and I can't say I'm handling it well. Between the sadness I feel over having to leave a place I have (surprisingly) come to think of as home and the anxiety I feel over not know what my next destination is, I am a bundle of mixed emotions. Yes, in some respects, I am excited about the prospects of a new beginning, but in many ways, this new beginning is what gives me the most pause.
Every time I moved from one life moment to the next, the next steps were always clear: from elementary school and middle school came high school, and then after high school came college. But what's after college? A job, hopefully, but what job? Will it be something I've always wanted — my dream job? Will it be just "a job" to earn some money? Will it be a job that's just OK but something that will give me the experience I need to reach my ultimate goal?
And what about my friends? Some already have jobs, but those jobs require them to move away. Will I ever see them again? Will we keep in touch like we said we would? What about my non-work life? In college, my non-work time was spent with activities and clubs that were all in the little microcosm of my university where I met like-minded people; where will I find those people now that I won't be there? Where and how will I find "my people"? How will I find companionship? Will I find someone —anyone — who understand me, or will I just be floating out in the world alone?
In each phase of my life, the years ahead of me seemed manageable because I knew generally what was coming. I knew that I would face four years of high school and four years of college. Now, I face the rest of my life, and right now, it looks pretty nebulous. It's amorphous; it has no shape, no structure, no definites. In many ways, I've taken those things for granted, even thinking of them negatively as I craved the opportunity to just do as I pleased. But now I can do as I please and all I want is structure, definites, sure things. I want to know all of my destinations in my life, and all of the passengers that will fly with me on this journey, but I don't. I can't know those things until I actually graduate and get on the plane and begin my travels.
I know people graduate from college each year. Some know exactly where they are going while others only have a dream, a hope. Yet, all graduates get ready for takeoff — there's no safety lecture on this trip — and hope for the smoothest flight possible. Some seem to never hit turbulence while others undoubtedly do. But somehow, everyone lands on their feet in some way, maybe not at the destination they hoped or in the way they planned, but they still find a comfortable place to land.
I don't know what's coming for me or when. I don't know where I'm going or how I'll get there. All I know is that I am scheduled to leave 'home' in over a week, and I'm scared. I'm scared that instead of taking off, I'll be stalled on the ground. That instead of reaching my desired destination(s), I'll aimlessly wander. That instead of flying, I'll fall. But then again, what if I fly?
“There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask 'What if I fall?'
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?”
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?”
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
The downhill slide
We are one month into 2017, and every day, it is becoming more and more apparent that my days in college are numbered. Beyond knowing that I have about 100 days left until I graduate, I also have started to feel like I don't belong here anymore — not in the way I did freshman year, where I was questioning whether or not I could create a home at my chosen college. This feeling is much different. I feel like I am starting to outgrow this place; I feel like I am ready for the next level, even though I know I will miss my college dearly when I graduate.
After discovering this, I next had to take note of my passions and interests, which were many. From fashion to politics to music to sports, my interests were (and still are) diverse and expansive. So I knew I had a knack for writing and that I had all of these varying interests, so now what? What do I do with all of them?
This is where it's important to talk to people who know you very, very well and someone whose input you value. For me, I talked this over with my mother, someone who knows me better than I know myself and can often foresee things for me that I cannot yet conceptualize. We started talking about ways to combine these talents and interests, listing off fashion public relations, musician/celebrity management and wedding planning as potential career paths. None of these appealed to me, so we kept going. My mom mentioned entertainment journalism, and while I was hesitant at first, I could never stop thinking about its potential.
Once I started college, I declared a major in film and television production, and although it turned out to not concentrate as much on journalism as I wanted, I still felt compelled to pursue journalism, to give it a try. I changed majors, and enrolled in my first journalism course in the spring semester of my freshman year. And the rest, as they say, is history — writing in a journalistic format was, as my professor said at the time, something that seemed to be second nature to me. And that's when I knew I had only scratched the surface of my purpose.
So let's review: take note of your talents and your interests, then discuss them over with someone whose opinion you trust and who knows you well. Once you land on a option that sounds appealing to you, test it out. But then, how do you know if it's right for you? This might just be the most important part of this entire article:
Finding your purpose is by no means easy, but once you find it, you will know. It will feel a little like falling in love: you fall slowly, gradually and then one day, you realize you can't stop thinking about it.
When that day comes, you will have found your purpose, my friend.
XO,
That University Girl
Imagine a bridge spanning across a body of water: one end of the bridge is connected to one piece of land while the opposite end is anchored to another, with a stretch of roadway running over the water. This is exactly how I feel right now: one piece of me still very much connected to my college and doesn't want to leave, while the other piece of me is being called by my future. The rest of my heart is left floating in the middle.
Although I still have several months left to enjoy the last of my college life, I also want to make sure that I don't get so caught up in the emotion of it all that I forget everything that I've learned here beyond the classroom. That's why I want to share some of my top lessons here, so that future college students don't have to endure as painful a learning process as I did — everyone will go through their own struggles, but if my insight can save even an ounce of trouble, then That University Girl's function is fulfilled. So without further ado, my first lesson to impart is all about finding your purpose.
To say "Find your purpose" is like saying "Go find a purple unicorn" — it sounds like some magical thing that you're not sure exists. But I can assure you, your purpose exists. I used to struggle with this very thing when I was near the end of my time in high school and preparing for college. I had no idea what I thought I'd want to study, and I certainly did not have a clue what career I hoped to pursue. But thanks to a very wise person in my life (my mother, who else?), I was able to solve this mystery once and for all. She told me:
"Look for where your talents and your passions intersect. At that intersection, you will find your purpose."While this sounds a bit formulaic, at the very least, it spurred me to start taking stock of what I was good at and what I enjoyed. Before I even noticed, my mom saw within me a strength in writing. At first, I didn't think anything of it, but then I started to notice that I never had much trouble writing; whether I had to complete short essays or lengthy research papers, writing them wasn't a trying process for me, and I would sometimes grow very excited if I drew an exciting conclusion or made an interesting connection. After winning an award for my writing at the end of my junior year of high school, I was convinced that maybe, just maybe, there was something to my penchant for writing.
After discovering this, I next had to take note of my passions and interests, which were many. From fashion to politics to music to sports, my interests were (and still are) diverse and expansive. So I knew I had a knack for writing and that I had all of these varying interests, so now what? What do I do with all of them?
This is where it's important to talk to people who know you very, very well and someone whose input you value. For me, I talked this over with my mother, someone who knows me better than I know myself and can often foresee things for me that I cannot yet conceptualize. We started talking about ways to combine these talents and interests, listing off fashion public relations, musician/celebrity management and wedding planning as potential career paths. None of these appealed to me, so we kept going. My mom mentioned entertainment journalism, and while I was hesitant at first, I could never stop thinking about its potential.
Once I started college, I declared a major in film and television production, and although it turned out to not concentrate as much on journalism as I wanted, I still felt compelled to pursue journalism, to give it a try. I changed majors, and enrolled in my first journalism course in the spring semester of my freshman year. And the rest, as they say, is history — writing in a journalistic format was, as my professor said at the time, something that seemed to be second nature to me. And that's when I knew I had only scratched the surface of my purpose.
So let's review: take note of your talents and your interests, then discuss them over with someone whose opinion you trust and who knows you well. Once you land on a option that sounds appealing to you, test it out. But then, how do you know if it's right for you? This might just be the most important part of this entire article:
It has to continually excite you. It has to challenge you, but also not feel like "work." It has to teach you, but also bring out and enhance your natural abilities. It has to make you feel like there is nothing else in the world you'd rather be doing. It has to feel like home.This is how I knew that journalism was right for me. I felt comfortable writing and reporting. It felt like trying on my own skin and walking around in it — familiar, natural. But it also felt exciting and invigorating, and I can promise you that three years later, I am still enamored by this field and this craft.
Finding your purpose is by no means easy, but once you find it, you will know. It will feel a little like falling in love: you fall slowly, gradually and then one day, you realize you can't stop thinking about it.
When that day comes, you will have found your purpose, my friend.
XO,
That University Girl
Saturday, December 31, 2016
New beginnings — and an ending
In my part of the world, the clock has not yet struck midnight and 2017 has not yet made its debut. As I wait for the new year to make its arrival, I cannot help but feel both excited and sad, hopeful and terrified for 2017. For me, 2017 isn't just another year; it's the year in which I will complete what could very possibly be my last year of formal education. In the coming year, I will walk across a stage in a cap and gown, receive my college diploma and complete my schooling career.
While that is certainly exciting, it is also scary. For my entire life, school has been a constant: September came, school started. May or June came, school ended. Then summer vacation graced me with its beautiful presence, and as quickly as it came, it would leave to usher in a new school year.
School is predictable, but life beyond my graduation date is uncertain. It's "the real world." It's not picking classes and signing up for extracurricular activities. It's not meeting your friends at the dining hall and deciding when to head to the mall on a Friday night. The real world is applying for jobs and keeping your fingers crossed that all of your hard work in college pays off. The real world is watching your friends disperse across the country, some finding jobs more quickly than others and trying to remember that everyone moves at their own speed. The real world is big and scary and unknown, especially when all you've ever known is the microcosm of a school.
What is exciting, however, is that the future that I've so long dreamed about — the one that always felt so far in the distance — is finally here, and it may present the very opportunities that I've wished for. I remember looking at myself in the mirror at 5 years old and wondering who I would be when I was 21; I also remember thinking that 21 seemed so old! But I can still see myself seriously mulling over who I would be by then, what I would look like, what I would accomplish and where I would be going. I hoped that at 21, I would have it all together.
Although I can't say I have it all together (far from it, actually), I can say that what I have learned since then — lessons learned in the classroom and lessons learned in life — will certainly help carry me through my next phase of life: adulthood. I certainly don't know everything, but I am used to being in the student's chair and I've excelled in the classroom, so learning even more as I move along will be a challenge I know I'm equipped to face.
Beyond what I already know and what I'm willing to learn, I also have something that may be just as important: hope. I am hopeful that 2017 will be a year in which I finally start to live a big life, a year in which I take chances, a year in which I take leaps — no more baby steps — toward achieving my dreams. I believe that 2017 will be the year that starts to let me have it all together, with each year after that only getting better and better.
But most of all, I have hope that I won't let that little 5-year-old girl down; she's depending on me, and I owe it to her to give her the best future — the best life — she never could have dreamed of.
Happy New Year, friends. Wishing you all the love, hope and joy in the world in 2017 and every year after.
XO,
That Hopeful University Girl
Saturday, November 26, 2016
The Power of Gratitude
Happy [belated] Thanksgiving! With the holiday just barely in our rearview mirror, I spent the past several days thinking about how much I have to be thankful for. If you've taken stock of your own blessings over the holiday, you'll know exactly what I mean when I say that there is no better feeling than knowing that you have many things for which to be grateful.
Of course, I am grateful for my family and my friends, as well as my life and my health; these are all things I could never take for granted, as they all can be painfully temporary. Being able to attend a university that I have grown to love is also something I cherish — especially since I certainly did not start out my college experience head over heels in love with my university of choice. But beyond these basic or even obvious objects of my gratitude, there are other things that I hold dear now that I never could have dreamed possible.
Over the past three and a half years of my college experience, I have felt every emotion a person could possibly feel: from the immense heartbreak I felt when I left my family on move-in day, to the dejection and hopelessness I experienced in the midst of my roommate conflict, to the elation I felt my junior year when everything felt as though it were finally falling into place, to the sense of hunger I now feel in anticipation for my future, it's safe to say I have pretty much been through it all. I have felt defeated, determined, then validated; despondent, resolute, then confident. So if it took going through everything I've been through to become a confident, strong person who not only believes in her abilities but also believes in her own worth and her own voice, then I am grateful for — even indebted to — these experiences.
To be able to reflect upon all that I've been through, to recognize how it's shaped me and changed me, to know that I've come out of it for the better — that is truly something to be thankful for.
When I was in high school, I had a teacher that said, "Make sure your experiences don't leave you bitter; instead, make sure they make you better." Back then, I'm sure I only mildly understood what she meant. After experiencing all that I did, I finally feel that I have a better understanding of what she actually meant:
Yes, I am grateful for these experiences, for my crazy, weird, wonderful, rollercoaster of a life. But I am also grateful for you — the readers. While I haven't exactly been the best at keeping it up to date, knowing that someone, somewhere is reading it and (hopefully) finding it helpful means the world to me. So thank you for sticking with me on this journey.
Until next time,
That [Grateful] University Girl
Of course, I am grateful for my family and my friends, as well as my life and my health; these are all things I could never take for granted, as they all can be painfully temporary. Being able to attend a university that I have grown to love is also something I cherish — especially since I certainly did not start out my college experience head over heels in love with my university of choice. But beyond these basic or even obvious objects of my gratitude, there are other things that I hold dear now that I never could have dreamed possible.
Over the past three and a half years of my college experience, I have felt every emotion a person could possibly feel: from the immense heartbreak I felt when I left my family on move-in day, to the dejection and hopelessness I experienced in the midst of my roommate conflict, to the elation I felt my junior year when everything felt as though it were finally falling into place, to the sense of hunger I now feel in anticipation for my future, it's safe to say I have pretty much been through it all. I have felt defeated, determined, then validated; despondent, resolute, then confident. So if it took going through everything I've been through to become a confident, strong person who not only believes in her abilities but also believes in her own worth and her own voice, then I am grateful for — even indebted to — these experiences.
To be able to reflect upon all that I've been through, to recognize how it's shaped me and changed me, to know that I've come out of it for the better — that is truly something to be thankful for.
When I was in high school, I had a teacher that said, "Make sure your experiences don't leave you bitter; instead, make sure they make you better." Back then, I'm sure I only mildly understood what she meant. After experiencing all that I did, I finally feel that I have a better understanding of what she actually meant:
Your circumstances have the power to change you. Don't let them capture you and consume you. Don't grow resentful of the curveballs that you will surely be thrown. Instead, greet each challenge with an elastic heart, ready to see how they will enhance you, change you, polish you and make you shine.
Yes, I am grateful for these experiences, for my crazy, weird, wonderful, rollercoaster of a life. But I am also grateful for you — the readers. While I haven't exactly been the best at keeping it up to date, knowing that someone, somewhere is reading it and (hopefully) finding it helpful means the world to me. So thank you for sticking with me on this journey.
Until next time,
That [Grateful] University Girl
Friday, November 11, 2016
The Beginning of the End
It's been well over a year since the last time I wrote. I know — I left the stage in the middle of a song, and I kept you waiting to hear the final verse. But I'm back, and this time, for good. So let's catch up, shall we?
Last year was pretty amazing. For starters, I lived in a brand new, beautiful on-campus apartment with five other roommates, and we all got along very well, which was something I was incredibly worried about. After my sophomore year experience, I was terrified to live with even one roommate again, fearing that it would be a repeat of the previous year. But to live with five (5!!) other girls after that — well, that was just shock therapy. But somehow, it all worked. There was a good mix of personalities among the six of us, so we all balanced each other out. Even when two of my roommates left to study in Europe for the spring semester, we still got along just fine. Also in the spring semester, we got a new roommate, who was a student studying in America from South America; while I was worried about getting a new roommate halfway through the year, this also had a happy ending: we all got along great, and we still keep in touch.
Beyond the living situation, I also had a great year academically. I did well in all of my classes, and saw my passion for journalism grow stronger with each class I took. It's pretty much confirmed that I am head over heels, madly, passionately in love with journalism, so the world better watch out when I graduate, because I am ready to hit the ground running.
Somewhere in between getting to know my roommates and getting to practice my passions, I also had the chance to make some new friends and reconnect with old ones. I've made friends with students from all different years —from sophomore to senior — and I've had the pleasure of seeing some of them graduate and take on the real world. I even reconnected with those who came to this university with me from high school, which was a welcome bonus to the group of friends I've come to call home here. Oh, and remember by "best friend" with whom I had a falling out sophomore year? She and I also made up over the summer and are slowly reconnecting — something I never saw coming, but something that I am now grateful for.
So now you find me here. But where's here? Well, I'm a little over a quarter of the way done with my senior year of college. That's right — my last year of college. This year always seemed so far away, and honestly, I thought it would never arrive. But it's here now, and I am in the throws of it. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of trying thus far.
For the first time ever in my college career, I am living with two of the same roommates for consecutive years (something I at first considered a win in my book). I moved in on Labor Day into an on-campus apartment that I wasn't thrilled with, only because that's where my roommates wanted to live; of course, if I was willing to live with them again, I would have to be willing to live in the apartment they set their sights on. And let's just say it's less than ideal. The building is old and is very far away from all of the major class buildings on campus — except for one, which happens to be where one of my roommates has most of her classes. The apartment has single rooms, which of course, are tiny and cramped. The air conditioning and heat controls have no off switches, so you will either freeze in the summer or broil in the winter. Oh, and let's not forget to mention that the kitchen is tiny, the front door has problems locking, and the shower is old and permanently stained.
My roommates themselves aren't much better; they still hold that freshmen year grudge against people who don't drink and frequent parties, and it's evident when they talk to me that I am considered "less than" for not participating in the standard college activities. Why not getting drunk is considered grounds for being discounted as a person worthy of attention and care, I am unsure; but apparently, in college, it is. One is also extremely pessimistic and domineering; last year, her darker humor was amusing because I had others that balanced out her personality. But now, she constantly asserts her point of view at the expense of silencing others — and that point of view is often very negative, which leaves me not wanting to talk to her sometimes because I know that not only will my voice not be heard, I will be told outright that my opinion is wrong, and her [negative] opinion is correct.
Don't get me wrong: I am grateful for the opportunity to attend college, so please do not mistake my descriptions as complaints — or worse — a lack of gratitude. To get to my senior year of college, to have the opportunity to receive an incredible education from teachers who truly care about their students has been one of the greatest gifts that life has given me.
However, I can't help but notice that my last year of school EVER isn't going quite as I'd hoped. Over the summer, I was prepared for a fun year with my roommates, looking to become even better friends with them than I was last year. I was hoping to truly enjoy every single thing about my final year of college. But I cannot say that I am.
Living in an apartment that I am not happy with, feeling like my roommates think less of me because I am not like them or because I don't do what they do is hard to handle every day. While what I am currently experiencing is less than ideal, I cannot help but think that my freshman-year self would not have been able to handle this. That girl would have cried, complained, and thrown in the towel after a few weeks, maybe a month at most. She would have taken her roommates' judgments to heart, let them minimize her and let them dictate how much worth she assigned to herself.
But I am no longer that girl. I am a young woman who has survived the homesickness of freshman year, battled through (and won) a toxic roommate situation sophomore year, and enjoyed a carefree junior year. I've learned, I've grown, and I've become a thick-skinned, impassioned woman who's begun to believe in herself, her abilities, and her value. Before, these circumstances would have beaten me. Now, these circumstances give me hope. They give me hope for a better life beyond the remainder of this year and well into my future.
While these things bother me at times, they are no more annoying than a fly that circles your face on a hot summer day: sometimes, it gets too close to you and bothers you enough to swat at it, but for the most part, it's not doing any harm. What they are doing, however, is giving me fuel. Fuel to build a life that I love. Fuel to support and encourage others and their differences. Fuel to give my life —my existence — a purpose that goes far beyond whatever job or career I happen to get.
What happens to me, what people say to me, or how people treat me today, tomorrow, or the rest of this year will not define the rest of my life; those things don't have that kind of power. What does have the power to shape the rest of my life is how I choose to play the hand I've been dealt — and let me tell you, I intend to win this.
And so I go forth, one more time, suited for battle. It may be the one of the most difficult battles I've fought thus far, but I've got history on my side — I haven't lost one yet.
Stay tuned, dear friends. Thanks for reading.
XO,
That University Girl
Last year was pretty amazing. For starters, I lived in a brand new, beautiful on-campus apartment with five other roommates, and we all got along very well, which was something I was incredibly worried about. After my sophomore year experience, I was terrified to live with even one roommate again, fearing that it would be a repeat of the previous year. But to live with five (5!!) other girls after that — well, that was just shock therapy. But somehow, it all worked. There was a good mix of personalities among the six of us, so we all balanced each other out. Even when two of my roommates left to study in Europe for the spring semester, we still got along just fine. Also in the spring semester, we got a new roommate, who was a student studying in America from South America; while I was worried about getting a new roommate halfway through the year, this also had a happy ending: we all got along great, and we still keep in touch.
Beyond the living situation, I also had a great year academically. I did well in all of my classes, and saw my passion for journalism grow stronger with each class I took. It's pretty much confirmed that I am head over heels, madly, passionately in love with journalism, so the world better watch out when I graduate, because I am ready to hit the ground running.
Somewhere in between getting to know my roommates and getting to practice my passions, I also had the chance to make some new friends and reconnect with old ones. I've made friends with students from all different years —from sophomore to senior — and I've had the pleasure of seeing some of them graduate and take on the real world. I even reconnected with those who came to this university with me from high school, which was a welcome bonus to the group of friends I've come to call home here. Oh, and remember by "best friend" with whom I had a falling out sophomore year? She and I also made up over the summer and are slowly reconnecting — something I never saw coming, but something that I am now grateful for.
So now you find me here. But where's here? Well, I'm a little over a quarter of the way done with my senior year of college. That's right — my last year of college. This year always seemed so far away, and honestly, I thought it would never arrive. But it's here now, and I am in the throws of it. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of trying thus far.
For the first time ever in my college career, I am living with two of the same roommates for consecutive years (something I at first considered a win in my book). I moved in on Labor Day into an on-campus apartment that I wasn't thrilled with, only because that's where my roommates wanted to live; of course, if I was willing to live with them again, I would have to be willing to live in the apartment they set their sights on. And let's just say it's less than ideal. The building is old and is very far away from all of the major class buildings on campus — except for one, which happens to be where one of my roommates has most of her classes. The apartment has single rooms, which of course, are tiny and cramped. The air conditioning and heat controls have no off switches, so you will either freeze in the summer or broil in the winter. Oh, and let's not forget to mention that the kitchen is tiny, the front door has problems locking, and the shower is old and permanently stained.
My roommates themselves aren't much better; they still hold that freshmen year grudge against people who don't drink and frequent parties, and it's evident when they talk to me that I am considered "less than" for not participating in the standard college activities. Why not getting drunk is considered grounds for being discounted as a person worthy of attention and care, I am unsure; but apparently, in college, it is. One is also extremely pessimistic and domineering; last year, her darker humor was amusing because I had others that balanced out her personality. But now, she constantly asserts her point of view at the expense of silencing others — and that point of view is often very negative, which leaves me not wanting to talk to her sometimes because I know that not only will my voice not be heard, I will be told outright that my opinion is wrong, and her [negative] opinion is correct.
Don't get me wrong: I am grateful for the opportunity to attend college, so please do not mistake my descriptions as complaints — or worse — a lack of gratitude. To get to my senior year of college, to have the opportunity to receive an incredible education from teachers who truly care about their students has been one of the greatest gifts that life has given me.
However, I can't help but notice that my last year of school EVER isn't going quite as I'd hoped. Over the summer, I was prepared for a fun year with my roommates, looking to become even better friends with them than I was last year. I was hoping to truly enjoy every single thing about my final year of college. But I cannot say that I am.
Living in an apartment that I am not happy with, feeling like my roommates think less of me because I am not like them or because I don't do what they do is hard to handle every day. While what I am currently experiencing is less than ideal, I cannot help but think that my freshman-year self would not have been able to handle this. That girl would have cried, complained, and thrown in the towel after a few weeks, maybe a month at most. She would have taken her roommates' judgments to heart, let them minimize her and let them dictate how much worth she assigned to herself.
But I am no longer that girl. I am a young woman who has survived the homesickness of freshman year, battled through (and won) a toxic roommate situation sophomore year, and enjoyed a carefree junior year. I've learned, I've grown, and I've become a thick-skinned, impassioned woman who's begun to believe in herself, her abilities, and her value. Before, these circumstances would have beaten me. Now, these circumstances give me hope. They give me hope for a better life beyond the remainder of this year and well into my future.
While these things bother me at times, they are no more annoying than a fly that circles your face on a hot summer day: sometimes, it gets too close to you and bothers you enough to swat at it, but for the most part, it's not doing any harm. What they are doing, however, is giving me fuel. Fuel to build a life that I love. Fuel to support and encourage others and their differences. Fuel to give my life —my existence — a purpose that goes far beyond whatever job or career I happen to get.
What happens to me, what people say to me, or how people treat me today, tomorrow, or the rest of this year will not define the rest of my life; those things don't have that kind of power. What does have the power to shape the rest of my life is how I choose to play the hand I've been dealt — and let me tell you, I intend to win this.
And so I go forth, one more time, suited for battle. It may be the one of the most difficult battles I've fought thus far, but I've got history on my side — I haven't lost one yet.
Stay tuned, dear friends. Thanks for reading.
XO,
That University Girl
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Same Campus, Different Me
Summer departed as quickly as it arrived, and I find myself back on my college campus, awaiting the start of a new school year. The last time I wrote, I was just barely dipping my toe into the start of summer vacation; I had the whole summer in front of me, and now here I am with memories made and the whole summer behind me. I have the whole school year in front of me, and of course, I am curious to see what this year will bring me.
I moved in yesterday to my new on-campus apartment — no more cramped, dingy dorm room, one of the perks of being a junior in college. Move-in went smoothly, because after all, my family and I are experts at this point. However, the one thing we are still not experts at is saying goodbye. No matter how many times I leave home and go back to school throughout the year, nothing quite compares to the utter heartbreak of saying goodbye to my family on move-in day. I know, I am three years into this ride called college; I should be past the point of feeling upset over leaving home and leaving my family. But I am one of those kids who loves her family and everything about them; I love spending time with them, and I consider them to be my truest friends and my greatest confidantes. So leaving them is like leaving my heart outside of my body — I feel empty at my core, even though I know it won't be long until I see them again.
Shortly after saying goodbye, I had to pull myself together to attend meetings and presentations for all of the clubs and organizations I am a part of on campus. Although it was hard to suppress my emotions, having meetings to go to was a welcome distraction to keep my mind from straying to thoughts of home. I am a part of several organization on campus, in which I hold a few leadership positions this year; this is a change that I will take some getting used to. I am so accustomed to being the subordinate, and now I am, in some cases, in charge. Stepping into this position will be difficult, but a change that I will welcome.
Another big change occurring this year comes in the roommate department: this year, I am not only living in an apartment, I am sharing this apartment with five other girls, a drastic change from the one roommate I started out with last year and an even bigger change from having no roommate at the end of the 2014-2015 school year. Am I slightly terrified to be sharing an apartment with five other girls? Absolutely. Am I prepared to handle what may come my way in this scenario, good or bad? I hope so. All I know is that after last year's situation, I certainly learned how to handle even the prickliest of scenarios.
Beyond all of these changes, there is another shift that has occurred, but one that is not as visible. This shift has occurred within me. The events of last year — fighting and winning a roommate battle and ending a friendship with a longstanding "best friend"— taught me more than I ever could have anticipated. I learned not only how to speak up for myself, but how to respect myself and how to fight for what I deserve. These experiences taught me my own worth, and because of that, I have dreamed bigger than I ever have before, and I have more faith in those dreams that I ever have had before. I find that I believe in myself more; I believe that I can do anything, and that is a new feeling that I am still adjusting to. I used to put boundaries around myself and my abilities, constantly trying to keep my dreaming "in check." I thought I was being realistic, but I realize now that I was only boxing myself in. I recognize now that placing restraints on myself and my abilities won't propel me forward, but keep me in one place.
In some ways, I think that being holed up in my single room for the last six weeks of last semester was probably the greatest thing that ever happened to me because in that room, I found myself. Within the confines of those four walls, I learned to dream beyond the constraints I placed on myself. I learned to not only think big, but to "act big" on those thoughts to make my dreams come to pass. One of the greatest lessons I've learned in that room was to not care what anyone else thinks of me; in my freshman year of college, I was so concerned about how others perceived me, so much so that it crippled my ability to even speak to them. Today, I am not concerned with whether or not others will like me; instead, I am concerned with whether or not I will like them.
While leaving summer behind to dive back into the books is not anyone's idea of fun (and it's not my idea of fun, either), it has, for me, given rise to reflection, not only on where I've been, but where I'm bound to go. And frankly, I'm done using words such as 'if' and 'maybe,' because after all that I've been through, I'm convinced that I can do anything, even achieve my super-sized dreams.
So this year, I'm through with doubting myself and my abilities. I'm through with being uncertain and questioning if I will achieve my dreams and goals. I'm over taking a backseat to let others shine. And I'm done letting unworthy people play a role in my life. This is the year that a girl who previously never believed in herself will not only believe fully in her potential, but will also see her potential realized. I can't read the future, but I'm willing to bet that by the end of this year, I will have my dreams right in the palm of my hand.
Now excuse me while I step off my soapbox and put on my armor — a warrior is about to enter the ring of life.
-That [Warrior] University Girl
I moved in yesterday to my new on-campus apartment — no more cramped, dingy dorm room, one of the perks of being a junior in college. Move-in went smoothly, because after all, my family and I are experts at this point. However, the one thing we are still not experts at is saying goodbye. No matter how many times I leave home and go back to school throughout the year, nothing quite compares to the utter heartbreak of saying goodbye to my family on move-in day. I know, I am three years into this ride called college; I should be past the point of feeling upset over leaving home and leaving my family. But I am one of those kids who loves her family and everything about them; I love spending time with them, and I consider them to be my truest friends and my greatest confidantes. So leaving them is like leaving my heart outside of my body — I feel empty at my core, even though I know it won't be long until I see them again.
Shortly after saying goodbye, I had to pull myself together to attend meetings and presentations for all of the clubs and organizations I am a part of on campus. Although it was hard to suppress my emotions, having meetings to go to was a welcome distraction to keep my mind from straying to thoughts of home. I am a part of several organization on campus, in which I hold a few leadership positions this year; this is a change that I will take some getting used to. I am so accustomed to being the subordinate, and now I am, in some cases, in charge. Stepping into this position will be difficult, but a change that I will welcome.
Another big change occurring this year comes in the roommate department: this year, I am not only living in an apartment, I am sharing this apartment with five other girls, a drastic change from the one roommate I started out with last year and an even bigger change from having no roommate at the end of the 2014-2015 school year. Am I slightly terrified to be sharing an apartment with five other girls? Absolutely. Am I prepared to handle what may come my way in this scenario, good or bad? I hope so. All I know is that after last year's situation, I certainly learned how to handle even the prickliest of scenarios.
Beyond all of these changes, there is another shift that has occurred, but one that is not as visible. This shift has occurred within me. The events of last year — fighting and winning a roommate battle and ending a friendship with a longstanding "best friend"— taught me more than I ever could have anticipated. I learned not only how to speak up for myself, but how to respect myself and how to fight for what I deserve. These experiences taught me my own worth, and because of that, I have dreamed bigger than I ever have before, and I have more faith in those dreams that I ever have had before. I find that I believe in myself more; I believe that I can do anything, and that is a new feeling that I am still adjusting to. I used to put boundaries around myself and my abilities, constantly trying to keep my dreaming "in check." I thought I was being realistic, but I realize now that I was only boxing myself in. I recognize now that placing restraints on myself and my abilities won't propel me forward, but keep me in one place.
In some ways, I think that being holed up in my single room for the last six weeks of last semester was probably the greatest thing that ever happened to me because in that room, I found myself. Within the confines of those four walls, I learned to dream beyond the constraints I placed on myself. I learned to not only think big, but to "act big" on those thoughts to make my dreams come to pass. One of the greatest lessons I've learned in that room was to not care what anyone else thinks of me; in my freshman year of college, I was so concerned about how others perceived me, so much so that it crippled my ability to even speak to them. Today, I am not concerned with whether or not others will like me; instead, I am concerned with whether or not I will like them.
While leaving summer behind to dive back into the books is not anyone's idea of fun (and it's not my idea of fun, either), it has, for me, given rise to reflection, not only on where I've been, but where I'm bound to go. And frankly, I'm done using words such as 'if' and 'maybe,' because after all that I've been through, I'm convinced that I can do anything, even achieve my super-sized dreams.
So this year, I'm through with doubting myself and my abilities. I'm through with being uncertain and questioning if I will achieve my dreams and goals. I'm over taking a backseat to let others shine. And I'm done letting unworthy people play a role in my life. This is the year that a girl who previously never believed in herself will not only believe fully in her potential, but will also see her potential realized. I can't read the future, but I'm willing to bet that by the end of this year, I will have my dreams right in the palm of my hand.
Now excuse me while I step off my soapbox and put on my armor — a warrior is about to enter the ring of life.
-That [Warrior] University Girl
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