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”.