My first two years of college still feel like a blur.
It’s a blur of learning how to balance academics while learning how to make long lasting friendships, how to let toxic ones go and how to keep your head above water in some of the most mentally grueling months of your life thus far.
In many ways, I feel like I did, in fact, spend a lot my time trying to stay afloat. I was like a duck paddling under water-- cool and composed on the outside, and just trying to keep up on the inside. I had always heard that the first few semesters of college were some of the most difficult and draining, and while I am just several weeks away from beginning the latter half of my college career, I cannot help but find that it’s true.
Like many, much of my freshman year was spent learning the ropes of college. I was suddenly responsible for myself. I was responsible for getting myself to class on time, for doing things without guidance or experience and for setting a “big kid” alarm clock instead of relying on my mom to wake me up for school (okay--maybe she did wake me up for an 8 AM once or twice, but that's beside the point). The learning curve was difficult and I handled it well for the most part but having spent so much time hyper focused on my basic need for survival, I let my own well-being fall by the wayside.
The same went for my sophomore year. I was finally in my major and learning what it took to follow my dreams. Sure, my classes were much more difficult than I had ever imagined, but I knew what I was doing, hell, I was a college pro (or at least I thought I was). Friendships were blossoming left and right and I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life, and though I had so much on my plate and the weeks were passing in what felt like superhuman speeds (which was terrifying at times), I felt on top of the world.
It wasn’t until recently, though, that I realized that despite all of the highs and lows throughout some of the best two years of my life, that something was missing: me.
I began to question where I factored into this situation. Sure, it was my life and I was happy, but I couldn’t help but feel like I had missed so many opportunities to focus on myself and my well being. I spent countless hours focusing on my own establishment as an individual, that I didn’t spend enough time focusing on my growth. In some ways, I often felt like the same 17-year-old girl who walked into my college campus for the first time and thought, “Well, here goes nothing.”
So as I gear up for my junior year, I can’t help but want to take the time to focus on myself. Your junior year of college should be about you and nobody else. You’re finally established academically and socially, you spent two years doing that, but there comes a point when you need to be the main priority.
There comes a point where you can no longer sit around and hope for a moment where suddenly everything makes sense about yourself, who you are and who you want to become. There comes a point where you need to start living for yourself and giving up the control of the things that you can’t change.
There’s only so much time left to make yourself a priority. The first two years passed in the blink of an eye, and the second two will only pass faster. If you’re like me, you feel secure entering these last two years. You have found your forever friends, you have a good job (or maybe two), you’re studying your passion and you know what to expect in every moment you’re on campus.
So focus on yourself. Focus on your passions, your interests and what makes you happy. Discover your self-worth and never let it go. Find a balance between school, your friends and yourself and run with it. Stop pouring your time into trivial issues that won’t matter a week, month or year down the line.
The relationship you hold with yourself is more important than any other relationship you have, so why waste your time preventing its growth?
