This story begins roughly fifteen years ago, when I was told by my first grade teacher that I was a strong writer.
Now, at the time this probably meant I spelled a word like “except” correctly, which is an incredible feat for a six year old. I doubt this alleged “strength in writing” came from prose, but the details are fuzzy to me.
In any regard, my teacher instilled in me the idea that I was a good writer. Whether I was or not was irrelevant because from then on it became a part of my identity.
For the next eleven years I polished this proclaimed skill of mine. I wrote in every form you can imagine. Narrative, research papers, poetry, even slam poetry. I studied the greats and consult my poetry binder to this day for inspiration.
That’s why during my first week at UCSB, upon learning I could publish articles online, I walked up to the Her Campus table at an open house event and learned everything I could about it.
I was delighted to have been accepted as an editorial intern. At this point in my life I was still set on becoming a psychologist and doing research, so writing continued to be a hobby of mine, nothing more.
But the part of my identity set in place all those years ago lived on. “I’m a strong writer”. No one ever told me I was a strong scientist or mathematician. I’m just gonna put that out there.
Anyway, this platform allowed me to write about everything I’m passionate about, from my favorite hair tools to my love of magazines and even topics like Crisis Pregnancy Centers (CPC’s) and the election of Zohran Mamdani.
What surprised me most was not that people read my articles, but that they responded to them. Writing for Her Campus taught me that good writing isn’t about showing people how much you know. It’s about making people feel seen, understood, informed, or challenged.
Over time, I learned how to research topics I knew nothing about and how to explain complicated issues in a way that felt approachable. Those skills have followed me far beyond this publication.
I will never take the opportunity to write freely and honestly on my little corner of the internet for granted. The thing is, what I thought was my little corner is not so little.
Pandia Health reached out to me about publishing my CPC article on their website as well, and a law school admissions officer told me my storytelling abilities stood out to them. My future as an attorney is possible in part because of the writing I’ve done. The writing I was given the privilege to do.
Somewhere along the way, writing stopped being just a hobby and became something much bigger. It helped me realize that regardless of what career I pursue, communication will always be at the center of it. Whether I am writing a legal brief or advocating for a client one day, the foundation is the same: understanding people and telling stories clearly and honestly.
While I am proud of myself, this article is not meant to be a bragging fest. I truly believe that many other people could write the pieces I have, and probably with more nuance and less use of the word “really”. But they don’t have the opportunity that I had.
That is what makes organizations like Her Campus so important. Talent matters, but opportunity matters too. Having a place where young women can experiment, develop their voices, and publish work that people will actually read is incredibly valuable. Not everyone arrives at college already believing they have something worth saying. Sometimes they need someone to give them a platform first.
And for that I am eternally grateful for Her Campus. Every editor in chief and senior editor I’ve had the pleasure of working with, every other girl who writes for this magazine and makes it what it is. Even every member of our PR team who produces both aesthetic and meaningful work.
Women will always have a place in journalism, and this magazine proves that. Every article, from those about beauty and partying, to those about politics and advocacy, have a place and are important.
The diversity of voices and interests represented here is part of what makes the publication special. It reflects the reality that women are not one thing, and neither is women’s journalism.
I am excited for my future and to continue finding my voice, but I couldn’t leave Her Campus without thanking it for helping me become the person and writer I am today.