“Without struggle, we would never be able to stumble across strength.”
With graduation a few months behind me and the first job to my career a few weeks in front, a new chapter opens, one where I finally get to be the author of my life story. As I turn over a new page, I look back and see bursts of how the college narrative has impacted me, both in perspective and as a person.
Of all the lectures listened to and experiences gained, I would like to thank college most for bringing one thing in particular into my life -- struggle.
Before struggle walked through my door freshman year, I never thought much about it. In high school, I was fully content with the person I was, loved and accepted by those around me. But when surroundings changed, knowingly, yet seemingly out-of-the-blue, the defining attributes of my personality were gone. I was strung along by individuals I had just met and lifestyles I did not agree with, finding myself constantly searching. Searching for something more; searching for something me.
As the weeks of freshman year rolled on, I fell into a hole of what I would like to call, a fear of not being invested in. There were unspoken rules to this so-called “college experience"; decisions, words, and actions that were micromanaged so that only a certain mold of a person would feel gratified in its environment. With societal standards on my back, I lost a sense of purpose to be different, because “different” was now considered out-of-place.
I still couldn't find my place, amidst everyone around me seemingly finding theirs in an instant. Complete strangers had power over me, with their voiced and silent assumptions placed in a mental back drawer, letting my headspace be consumed with others' impressions of me. Every day, I put on the best show I could, shape-shifting my personality to fit each setting I was in. I was owned by the desire to achieve the collegiate society’s definition of perfect. Rather than soul-deep beauty, skin-deep beauty felt like the only attention grabber, and individuals that were superficially above me in rank suddenly fit the mold I strived to emulate.
I entered a mixing bowl of unhealthy habits, following a manufactured mindset that I thought would make me beautiful, and thus happy. I ran into an obsession, rather than an improvement, and consequently, my body was slim, yet weak, falling off the tracks and forgetting how to brake. I was riding a train of denial, confusion, and above all, frustration. The concept of struggle finally sunk in.
I ran as fast as I could, ate as little as I could, and tried to fit into the cookie-cutter mold that was seemingly giving success to so many others. My size was small, yet I still didn’t feel wanted, much less beautiful. I was selling myself short, no foreclosure needed. I wanted so badly to control what others thought of me, that I tirelessly pushed more than I could pull. But after a year of running in circles, I realized my property value wasn’t going to rise based on the way I looked.
Over the course of the next couple years in college, I realized two important lessons to the struggle in finding your place:
1) Happiness brings beauty, not the other way around.
2) If it's meant to happen, it will, at the right time for the right reasons.
I had always lacked the understanding of those two things because I had never been put in a situation to test them. With college being that test in various ways, I found myself grateful for struggle, as it brought new strength and faith to trust in life's plan.
So as a new chapter begins, my college narrative will always be my favorite to re-read, as it brought out who I wanted to be. In time, I was blessed with the people I was supposed to be with and the realization of beauty in myself. It took treading in water where I didn't belong to find out how to swim in my own lane, and through standing out I had finally found a place to fit in.
So thank you struggle; because of you, I found my strength.