As I’m sitting here in Swem for the fifth night in a row, procrastinating on a paper I should have started yesterday, I’m thinking about how quickly this semester has gone—it has been, undoubtedly, the best semester I have had thus far.
Junior year, with graduation becoming now more of an imminent event rather than a vague possibility (providing I pass art history), has forced me to consider my growth as a person during the past five semesters. In the past week alone, I’ve pushed my comfort zone, met some amazing people, been to the Career Center, and conquered a fear. I’ve seen the leaves change from green to gold and then fall, gleaming, to the brick paths; I’ve engaged in leaf fights and stayed out till 2 am on a Monday.
The things I have done, the experiences I have had this week, this month, this semester alone, would have been unimaginable before my time here at the College.
Two years ago, I was shy. I had acne, slept with a pillow pet, and I doubted my abilities. I was afraid to look people in the eye for fear that they would instantly recognize my insecurity, and I realize I was not the “perfect” shell I projected. I lost sight of myself for a while, jumping between groups of friends and various clubs until I found the people who would help me realize my potential when I could not.
This semester, something changed, something clicked—a missing puzzle piece fell into place, and suddenly, I became the person that I had wanted to be, but was too afraid to find. This semester, I am myself—I say awkward things, I laugh loudly, I break rules, I eat copious amounts of tater tots. I’m not afraid to be nonsensical, to say the things that I mean, to relinquish the death grip on my GPA and have some fun.
I have found, unsurprisingly, that being yourself does not mean that your friends will desert you—instead, they will come to know you better, to appreciate you for who you are, to see your genuineness as a gift and know that when you speak, you speak from your heart. This semester, I have comforted friends on their bad days, and been comforted by people who I never expected would reach out to me; I have failed a test, and I have accidentally killed my pet fish.
It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay to accept that you are not perfect, that you are young, you are human, and the world is infinitely beautiful and terrifying. It’s okay to be teased, and to tease others, and its okay to allow yourself to be vulnerable. By putting yourself out there, you are taking a chance—but the rewards are innumerable. It takes too much energy to wear a mask, to hold tightly to a persona that does not allow the world to see you for who and what you are.
You are wonderful. This place–this college–is wonderful. We are a school filled with brilliant, quirky, driven people—just be yourself, and let it rip. There are people waiting to embrace you with open arms.