Are you even a blogger-aspiring writer if you don’t write about your personal growth and experiences to share with a barely existing audience? I don’t know if I am, but this is something I am going to look back on, a few years down the line, and I’m putting this up on the internet, if you want to read it and draw even an ounce of motivation from it.
Graduation from an institution where one completes their undergraduate studies is not the greatest accomplishment in the world, nor is it worth endless appreciation and applause. It is an entirely different experience for everyone, in every generation of college students. But it is worth something — perhaps, a recognition for transitioning into adulthood and cultivating the ability to at least try to overcome the challenges life throws at us.
Three years ago, my choice to pursue an undergraduate degree in a place far from the comfort of home (but still incredibly comfortable), gave me the opportunity to turn over a new leaf and create an identity for myself — an identity that was still true to myself but past the trauma of my early adolescent years.
In the beginning, things were more complex and volatile than I had ever imagined, and my deliberate, desperate attempts at changing my personality for the better were failing miserably. I was not going anywhere I wanted to be, I did not have a promising group of friends and my over-the-top university romantic comedy dream was nowhere close to being fulfilled. Top that up with advanced level organic chemistry no one prepared me for, a literal plethora of people and sentiments from countries I couldn’t even name, a constant homesickness and a sprained ankle that confined me to bed for three weeks. Quite naturally, within five months of being at university, I plunged into a kind of profound, confusing sadness; one that made me lock my doors and windows and hole myself up for hours on end.
But that, I can proudly say, is a thing of the past. With the understanding that only I could demolish the romanticised university experience I’d constructed for myself, I took a step back and realised that this here, was a group of people who knew nothing about my past and that they saw only what I showed them in the present. I could, in theory, be unabashedly myself and no one would know if I’d changed from the past or not. It took me a while to completely implement this: every time I made any sort of mistake, I felt the need to explain myself to someone, to show that I could do better, that I was better. I didn’t have to. We all err, and we all ask ourselves “why did I do that?”, but that’s an entirely personal conversation.
And that epiphany, I think, was really the turning point of my short university life. I did what I wanted, I liked, loved and disliked anyone I wanted, I pursued whatever and whoever I wanted — all of it, without hurting myself or the people around me. My unapologetic and somewhat fearless expression of myself brought me closer to the people I appreciated and needed, and took me away from those I didn’t. And today, I’m extremely happy with the people I am taking with me beyond the gates of the university.
During this process of learning about all that I was capable of and all that I wasn’t and throwing myself to things I loved, I fell in love with planning and organising, networking and applying. I fell in love with what my career could bring me if I prioritised, planned and executed. Some extremely ambitious friends and my professors propelled me further. This newfound appreciation and ambition put me on a path that is beautifully tailored for me, and even though traversing it is not going to be easy, I am truly and madly excited to do so.
Nearly everything about the intercultural and competitive environment that my university is set in, accumulated over time to make me the person I have become. And wherever I go next, I don’t think I’ll have to try so hard to ‘turn over a new leaf’ anymore.
At this point, I don’t want to give out unsolicited advice; I am no motivational speaker and I haven’t conquered anything much in life. However, I do want to say this: university is a little crazy and lots of wonderful. It’s difficult, without question. But what’s on the other side, doesn’t matter for now, because it’s important — imperative, almost — to take, understand and cherish every day of the journey. And the worst of times will get better, if you work for it. You truly have to be the change you want to see in your life and also the world.
So, in conclusion, through many conventional and unconventional firsts, waves of confusion and sadness mixed with ecstasy and love, unspeakable (false) rumours, buckets full of all kinds of tears, high school like infatuations, grades that I’m proud of and not proud of, and, finally, odd amounts of spontaneity, I made it. It’s a bittersweet feeling: the past three years have given me space to fail, learn and grow and has kept me unscathed by the brutal world outside, but now, and rightly so, it’s time to move on.
Oh, and I found my rom-com dream, in case you were wondering.
P.S. This is what I wrote when I first moved to University: https://themisfitssite.wordpress.com/2017/09/02/the-unusual/ (cringe)