College

My issues are my own, and I am very sparing in who I let in. But I couldn’t let this opportunity pass without reflecting on the past four years and the incredible people who got me here.

As I’m getting ready to say goodbye, it’s difficult to believe that the girl who walked through Sather Gate for the first time four years ago is the same person seeing it for perhaps the very last time now.

I often think about how this was supposed to be our time together now that I was older. We won’t ever get to have these moments, but throughout this year, I sought to find ways I could replicate what would make him proud.

It might take a second, but I promise you that every laugh we’ve shared, every joke you’ve told me and every memory we’ve made is stashed away somewhere in my brain.

It took me 20 years to want my culture back. A culture I had so actively sought to lose since middle school. 

I vaguely imagine the shoes my parents could be walking in one day, the paths they could blaze, the genuine dreams they would be pursuing. But the details are often excluded. It's hard to imagine something that won’t ever exist.

As the spring season approaches, so does another season—college decisions.

I know I’m burnt out when I suddenly feel this sense that I am a ghost in my own life. It happens when things are happening so fast around me and I have so much to worry about, I don’t feel like I have any control over the events of my existence.

If you could see them everyday / if they could see you everyday / they would see