Standing in the middle of my dorm room for the first time, with its scattered posters, pile of books, and haphazardly organized clothes, I remember thinking, what am I doing? Over that first semester, I did everything I could to escape that feeling, finding a balance with my new classes, meeting wonderful lifelong friends and getting involved. I felt like the best version of myself was slowly coming alive. Then, the dreaded spring slump hit–I was back to that edge-of-the-cliff moment I felt when all the emotions hit my first day. The girl who I had thought was growing to be the happiest version of herself quickly became a girl who I placed a lot of internal pressure on and was frustrated with throughout that first spring semester, thinking that if I had done things differently, I would change the outcome of failing to meet that ultimate “happy” expectation of myself.
Over the years, I have grown incredibly grateful for that Freshman spring semester version of myself. Through her, I learned what it means to dream big ideas in a coffee shop and stay motivated by those dreams. I learned what it means to call a friend when the tears become too much, building lasting relationships and networks of support with the women in my life who inspire me. I learned what it means to sit outside with just the comfort of the warm sun and pause, to self-regulate the anxiety that might come with the unknown. I send this version of myself all the love from her Senior self, who would not have made it this far without the determination that her Freshman self found through what seemed like an impossible road ahead.
To anyone feeling the weight of any semester, know that you are doing incredible things. I like to think of the hard work you do as being a beautiful patch of your life quilt. Each patch is unique to an experience, good or bad, that brings the whole together in a beautiful way. Try experiences that you are drawn to, know that it is okay to pivot, celebrate your smallest wins, and call that friend that makes you laugh through the tears when things get hard. These can become the patches that make up your quilt.
For me, my less-than-perfect patch is my Freshman year self, but this patch adds character to a multicolored, well-worn and well-loved quilt. Looking at this quilt, I see the ways that I have grown since and learned from hard lessons, experiences that would never have been as rewarding without the mistakes and imperfections. If I close my eyes and rewind, I relive these initial moments and feel a sense of nostalgic pride. What am I doing? I am figuring out who I am as a person. And that is an act of self-love.