According to the website Writersfield, “finding yourself means losing yourself.” So, when did I start to find myself, realize my purpose, uncover my passions and truly discover who I’m supposed to become? Well, I’m still working on it, but this confusing process of answering the question, “Who am I, really?” began about two years ago, during one of the most difficult times of my life.
While it’s only been within the past two years that I’ve started to discover who I really am, it’s important to note my roots and how they’ve influenced me. I come from a singular-stop-light, has-five-million-pizza-shops, entire-county-at-a-basketball-game kind of town. In the small village of McArthur, Ohio, I met my lifelong best friends. They’ll be at my wedding (if I actually get married, but that’s a topic for another day) and they’ll be sitting on my porch at 70-years-old, reminiscing with me on our teenage years. I attribute these friendships to growing up in a small town where everyone knows everyone, and there’s not much to do besides enjoy each other’s company. Being from Vinton County has influenced my life tremendously because it’s taught me to value the seemingly little (but in reality, extremely important) things in life. I will always be thankful and proud of my hometown.
When I arrived at Ohio State two years ago, I was a vivacious young 18 year old with many hopes and dreams for the world. I was trying to meet as many people as possible, joining 10,000 clubs, and (I can hardly type this one) looking for my potential future husband. At the beginning of the second semester, just after turning 19, someone who knew me better than I knew myself was taken from this world and it completely crushed me. It felt like someone tore out my heart and ripped it apart piece my piece. My world was flipped upside down, I felt like a walking zombie. Here is where I “lost myself.” While trying to fix my inner brokenness, I was forced to continue to attend class and put on a brave face. I had to keep going, even though I didn’t want to. Slowly but surely, I started to get stronger and see the beautiful things in the world again.
At some point, I decided the best way to honor my loved one was to try to live like her, in the best way I could. She was much bolder and confident than I am, so I knew I had to work on those aspects of myself. She always seized the day, and was so efficient, ambitious and motivated. Even though I knew I could come nowhere close, I wanted to try to live like her, because I wanted to make her proud of me. Over the last couple years I've tested multiple majors before deciding on the best route for myself. I learned I have a passion for history and politics, which I actually hated in high school. I rediscovered my love for writing, which I had forgotten. I learned I’m terrible at math and science, which is okay. I stopped caring so much about others’ opinions of me and became more confident. I learned that I should always go the extra mile for people, even if they wouldn’t walk a foot for me. A desire to affect change in the world has bubbled up inside of me. Most importantly, I learned the importance of valuing friendships and relationships, because love is the defining factor of life.
It sounds cliché, but I’ve always believed we are put on this earth for a reason. Actually, I believe we are put on this earth for multiple reasons. We will fade in and out of certain people’s lives; we will develop friendships and relationships that last until we’re old and gray. We will affect each and every one of these people differently, even though we may never realize just how much of an impact we have. Don’t believe me? Think about everyone who has had an impact on your life. Do you think each of these people realize how important they are to you, or how much you value their existence? The answer is likely “probably not.” We should really work on telling these people how much they mean to us. My point is I believe I have purpose. And one of these purposes is to value and appreciate those around me to the highest degree, because (here we go with the clichés again) one of the bitterest lessons this life has taught me is that we never truly know when we’re going to see someone for the last time.
Over the past few years, I have become a different (and I’d like to think, better) version of myself. I still have a lot of discovering to do, but that’s what life is for.
