Before I ever joined the Her Campus at CNU writing team, writing had always been a quiet, deeply personal part of my life. I was the seventh grader who wrote an entire 80,000+ word novel just for fun. I’d fill the margins of my notebooks with half-finished poems and leave scraps of thoughts and stanzas wherever I went. I even enjoyed writing essays in high school (yes really). But for all that passion, one thing remained true: I never shared what I wrote with anyone unless I absolutely had to. Writing was my sanctuary, not something I ever imagined putting on display.
That changed my freshman year when I nervously applied to be a writer for Her Campus at CNU. Suddenly, writing wasn’t just mine anymore, it was meant to be seen. Published. Read. Judged. That shift brought on a wave of anxiety I wasn’t prepared for. I spent hours poring over every sentence of my first articles, editing and re-editing, never truly feeling satisfied. Hitting “submit” felt like standing under a spotlight, vulnerable and exposed.
But luckily for me, there was Sierra.
Sierra was the Senior Editor during my freshman year and later became President during my sophomore year. More than anyone, she helped me find my footing. She read my drafts with care, gave thoughtful feedback, and most importantly, encouraged me when I doubted myself. Her belief in me didn’t just make me a better writer, it made me a more confident individual all around. She’s the reason I stepped into the role of Senior Editor my sophomore year, and the one who gently nudged me to take on the Presidency after that. She celebrated every small win with me and made me feel like I belonged.
The first two years I spent focused on writing helped me discover my tone, build confidence, and realize that my voice mattered. But the last two years, as President of the chapter, have shaped me in ways I didn’t expect. Leading multiple teams, planning events, managing deadlines, and creating a supportive, empowering space for other creatives made me grow not just as a leader, but as a person. It showed me that the same voice I’d developed through writing could be used to uplift others.
Her Campus gave me the space, encouragement, and community I needed to stop hiding behind my drafts and start believing in what I had to say. And in doing that, I found my voice, not just as a writer, but as a leader.