I’m just a girl. It’s a phrase I say more often than not. I usually use it in an attempt to make sense of my changing life. However, the harsh reality of entering my 20s is that as much as I want to hold on to my adolescence, adulthood is on the horizon. Much of my time nowadays is spent thinking about where I am in life, a crossroads I’d say. Entering adulthood is hard, you start to lose sight of what made you silly, and dumb, but free.
Diary excerpt 2.13.24: “Here I am, another night, wrapping up yet another day. I think amid adulthood, I’ve started to lose sight of my teenage self. It’s understandable, but I believe that even in adulthood, you shouldn’t allow the unique qualities of childhood and adolescence to be forgotten.”
In an attempt to take control of my path and snap out of the monotony of adulthood, I decided to take a bold step and go on my first solo trip. It’s spring break, the time people bathe on a beach and escape the hustle. On a daily scroll, I came upon the school’s alternative spring break list; then and there the words “Appalachia Service Project” stuck out to me. It was a week’s trip to rural Virginia to serve the community through home repair.
At first glance, I thought I could never do it. Construction and home repair, I thought. I’m just a girl. I have no experience with these things. I can’t even hold a tool, how could I ever do that? Then the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. For once, I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, I wanted to do something for myself. I had never gone on a trip all on my own, and as an anxious girly, being in a new place with new people was my worst nightmare. However, I wanted to try. I thought, your twenties are the perfect time to explore, take the service call girl. So off I went, at 5 am, in a van full of strangers, anxious out of my mind.
Diary excerpt 3.10.24: “I sit here as an individual, embarking on my first solo trip with a group of strangers. I’ve been on so many trips before, but this one feels different. For once, this trip is solely for me.”
Part of me couldn’t help but think of my parents, who immigrated to this country all alone, around the same age as I am now. I wondered, did they feel just as scared on their first solo journey, in a new place with new people? A feeling of gratefulness blanketed me, as I recognized the privilege of even being able to do this in the first place. They came to this country to allow me to do these kinds of things for myself, while they sacrificed their ability to do so.
So time went on and the week flew by. Let me tell you, my friend, I found myself on this trip. Working day by day, under the beating sun and shading trees of Virginia, I finally felt like myself. I recognized that I had built up all these anxieties over the new place, without even giving it a chance.
Diary entry 3.11.24: “Churches every mile, cows, and old tractors, it’s not New York for sure. I was afraid of being treated differently, but apart from some stares, people here are pretty sweet.”
I soon realized that this wasn’t about me at all, this was about serving others. I quickly recognized that adulthood is about understanding. It’s about understanding that what you do with this one chance that you have is what makes it all worth it. Serving others, I forgot my anxiety and awkwardness, it was meaningless compared to the struggles that others were facing.
Diary entry 3.11.24: “I think something that shocked me was the antiquity of a lot of things here. Ancient gas pumps, no running water, people in poverty; you would think it’s not in America. It’s insane how many people still live in poverty.”
It was through the construction project that I also gained an immense amount of self-confidence. Getting up on a ladder for the first time, drill in hand, and nails in my safety belt, I felt like an imposter. My legs were shaking and every time I looked down at the ground, the earth seemed to move underneath me. However, as I sat with the anxiety I so often try to ignore, I realized that I chose to do this. I was called to do this, it was bigger than me. So I took a deep breath and continued my work. Nail by nail, my confidence and self-assurance grew. I began to feel a sense of accomplishment and serenity in the work. I felt strong for once. I was still just a girl, but I was also a woman.
Diary entry 3.13.24: “Through all of my fear and anxiety, I just took a deep breath and pushed through. I tried and my hard work paid off. I realized that I was the only one holding myself back. I know I’m not the most knowledgeable or able, but I tried and that’s worth more than anything.”
So my friend, here I am. On a van, now full of friends instead of strangers, 14 hours to home. I’m still anxious, but a more understanding person. And yes I’m just a girl, but that isn’t an excuse in any way. Instead, I now see it as power. I’m more than just a girl, I am capable.