For me, Her Campus is somewhat of a haven. I can write my thoughts here and feel assured that no one will read it, at least not anyone who I know personally or who will confront me about it. A few years ago, I craved a place like Her Campus to voice out the best of my worst thoughts, and I think I hoped someone would read it. I wanted to believe that people were listening to me somewhere.
I was miserable in the first semester. My high school friends were changing, my college friends were indifferent, and I felt like a loser for not being better, prettier, more outgoing, more stylish. Slightly on edge, I wrote an article about feeling out of place and afraid, but at the same time feeling hopeful and excited.
I never expected anyone to read it, but to my surprise, a sweet girl I had met earlier in the year came up to me and told me she loved my article. I blushed and smiled bashfully, slightly embarrassed that my emotions had been exposed but pleased by the positive reception. I had read most of the earliest articles myself, and though I hadn’t paid attention to any of the authors’ names, I didn’t know if anyone else saw Her Campus as the untouchable stream of consciousness that I did. Later that night, I went on the blog and scrolled through to look at her articles as well. I followed a few of them, but eventually I was too busy to continue anymore, and I figured she likely did the same.
By the time second semester rolled around, I was incredibly low. I felt dejected, unlikable, and shoved to the side. I wrote an article about it the week before the due date, and pushed it out of my mind. It didn’t come back to me until the next time I saw that girl, the sweet one with the honey skin, who surprised me with her enthusiasm at seeing me. I walked away from that interaction running possibilities through my mind, working to figure out what it was that had created such an excited reaction at the prospect of seeing me. It was then I wondered if she had been reading my articles all this time.
There was another girl first semester who had recognized my name on the articles. She was friendly and kind, but I can’t say what kind of impression I made on her. Unlike the girl with the honey skin, she hadn’t mentioned the contents of any of the articles, and so I have no idea what she thinks of me in all of our passing greetings.
To the sweet girl who read my first article and maybe many ones after, hi. Thanks for reading my articles, if you are. You’re so kind for being nice to me when you knew I was struggling. I know I didn’t do much to respond, but it was thoughtful. I wonder what you’re up to. I wonder what you’re really like.
Maybe I’m overthinking this whole thing, who knows. Thank you for being sweet anyway.