I used to want out of my life as quickly as possible.
In high school, I kept myself at a distance—from people, from opportunities, from anything that asked me to be seen. No one told me I couldn’t be involved. The invitations were there; I just didn’t take them.
I bailed on my senior trip, literally skipped senior skip day, and didn’t even make it to the Washington D.C. trip back in the eighth grade.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was scared.
At the time, I told myself I was waiting for something better. I was so focused on getting to the “real world” that I rushed right past everything in front of me. I thought once I got out, everything would click. I’d be different. Maybe braver, definitely surer of myself.
The only difference I’ve noticed is that I’ve stopped running.
My life now is busy—objectively, undeniably busy.
A typical day for me starts at 6:30 a.m. I shower, get ready, make my bed (which still feels like a small victory), grab breakfast, and do some homework before heading to my back-to-back classes from 10 a.m. to 2:15 p.m. After that, I’ll get some food either with a friend or alone, do some more homework, come back to my apartment to feed my cat, and then go to work from 6 to 10 p.m.
It’s a full day; most days are.
And I love it.
Not because I like being overwhelmed or exhausted, but because for the first time, I understand what this kind of busy actually means.
It means I have somewhere to be. It means people expect me. It means I said yes to something that matters.
I’m involved in Her Campus, I’m a Peer Coach, and I actually have friends I can see every day—real plans, real conversations, real connections. Things I used to avoid are now the things that shape my days.
And the shift didn’t come from one big, dramatic decision. It came from small ones.
Saying yes to going out to eat, even when it felt easier to stay in. Joining a club, even when I wasn’t sure where I’d fit. Letting myself be part of something instead of standing just outside of it.
It sounds simple, but it changed everything.
Because for me, being busy in this way is such a privilege.
It’s easy to complain about having too much to do, about long days and packed schedules. And sometimes, I still do. But underneath that, there’s something else—a quiet awareness that this is what I used to wish for.
I wanted a life that felt full. I wanted to feel included. I wanted to matter somewhere.
And now, I do.
Even on the days when I’m tired. Even on the days when I feel that old instinct to pull back and disappear a little. It’s still there, if I’m being honest. There are moments when it would be easier to cancel plans, skip something, or even just go back to bed.
But I don’t stay there.
Because I know what it felt like to have nothing pulling me forward. To have empty space where something could have been.
So now, I choose the opposite.
I choose the full days. I choose the conversations. I choose to show up.
Not necessarily perfectly, or without hesitation—but consistently.
If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that a busy life isn’t something to escape from. It’s something to be grateful for. It means you’re building something. It means you’re connected. It means you’re growing into someone who is actually living their life instead of waiting for it to start.
I used to rush through everything, trying to get somewhere else. Now, I just try to keep up with the life I’m lucky enough to have.