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The Difference a Year Can Make

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Britney DeRosa Student Contributor, Mercer University
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Mercer Contributor Student Contributor, Mercer University
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Mercer chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Hello dear readers, whoever you are! One of the great things about the Internet is that it serves as a mask and helps eliminate inhibitions and therefore encourage self-disclosure, which is exactly what I’m going to do today. You might know me, and you might not. Either way, it’s about to get personal.

            Twelve months ago, I ended my first year here at Mercer. I had just been through a breakup, I was a newly initiated sister of a sorority on campus, and I had the great luck of figuring out exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life. In a lot of ways, I was feeling good. Freshman year had imparted on me this golden halo of confidence, like I could do no wrong, and the world was mine for the taking.

            I spent that summer working at my community theatre, building, painting, and helping out backstage. I was preparing for a fall semester abroad in Oxford, I was hanging out with my friends, and enjoying the freedom of being alone at home (spent mostly playing Mass Effect and Skyrim, but there you go). I was exploring Atlanta more than I ever had in my life. I was having fun.

            Did I make mistakes? Of course I did. I consider myself, and am considered, as mature for my age, but that doesn’t mean that I have any more experience than someone else as old as I am. I won’t go in to what happened, but suffice it to say I lost my parent’s trust that summer, and I disappointed myself immensely. It was a moment of clarity, as though a SWAT team kicked down a door and dragged me out into the sunlight. Is that what I’ve been like? I asked myself. Is that who I want to be?

            The answer was no. I was having fun, sure, but was that really it? Was I going to compromise myself for the sake of a good time? I was drifting along with things, not seeking them out; I was being taken, I wasn’t going.

            That was the immediate initial awakening, but the actual change was slower. Fast forward one challenging semester in Oxford, where I found my own adventures, and through one spring semester at Mercer, where the difference between myself barely six months ago and myself now was palpable. I spent a lot of time wondering if I had changed, or everyone else had changed, or if my perception of them changed. It was a little bit of the latter and a lot of the former.

            And so here I am, one year after that tumultuous, door-kicking summer. I am confident, but it’s not a conceited, teenager’s confidence; no, this confidence is quieter, stronger, braver confidence. I am less inclined to go along with things just because. I am no longer in a sorority, but theatre is a bigger part of my life, and nothing makes me happier. I haven’t broken up with anyone, because I care more about the friendships I have with the people already in my life.

            Last summer was aimless and chaotic, and I won’t put myself through that again. This summer I have plans: I will take a fencing class, I will learn a new language, I will write a play, and I will let myself be nerd without shame. I will see my friends often, I will run every day, I will sew, and I will do theatre. If I don’t want to do something, I won’t do it.

            There’s a lot to be gained in life by saying “yes”, but there can also be just as much to gain by saying “no”.

 
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