It all began in my first-year Journalism class, where my professor remembered me for one thing: my quirky habit of answering the question “What brings you joy today?” with my first name. It was a simple icebreaker, but somehow that moment stuck with him—and, in turn, it stuck with me, subtly influencing how I would navigate the next few years of my university experience. What I didn’t expect was the curveball that life was about to throw.
I had finally gathered the courage to make a move on someone I had been eyeing for weeks, convinced that the timing was right. But just as I was ready to step forward, I learned the crushing truth: they were already in a relationship. The way I discovered this news felt almost cinematic, a cruel twist of fate.
I sat there, staring at my article—my accomplishment—pinned to the board, feeling the ink dry in my mind as the room buzzed around me. My heart felt heavy; the joy of professional success was now tangled with the sting of personal defeat. I should have been savoring the moment, but instead, my mind was elsewhere. Despite the rush of emotion, I tucked my feelings away and chose to focus on the work in front of me. Life didn’t pause for my heartbreak, and neither would I.
But the universe wasn’t finished testing me. The professor for my new semester didn’t match my teaching style. One afternoon, as I sat there watching the clock tick, I realized I wasn’t just disengaged—I was suffocating. So, I made a decision: I would switch sections.
And that’s when I found myself in my first-year professor’s office again. I had gone there to request the section switch, and when I walked in, he looked up with that familiar warm smile. “You’re the only one named Joy in this class, aren’t you?” he asked, and my breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected him to remember me—after all, it had been over a year since I’d been in his class. But that simple question, “What brings you joy today?” lingered in the air between us. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it felt like a whisper from the universe: I was exactly where I needed to be.
The switch turned out to be more than just a practical decision—it became a turning point. It wasn’t just about finding the right class, it was about rediscovering my own sense of agency. Small moments like that question from my professor—moments I could have easily brushed off—reminded me of the quiet power of joy. It wasn’t something that could be planned or forced; it was in the spaces between, the fleeting moments that left the deepest impressions.
It wasn’t just a good choice; it was a revelation. The new class wasn’t merely an escape from a dead-end environment; it was a breath of fresh air. I felt more connected to the material and, surprisingly, to the people around me. This was exactly what I needed.
I came to understand that the true challenge lay not in the setbacks themselves, but in how I responded to them. While the world had its plans, I had my own. Ultimately, what mattered most was my choice to embrace my happiness and continue moving forward despite the obstacles.
The ultimate reward wasn’t just the article displayed on the board or the new connections I made; it was the clarity I gained throughout the process. I chose to be present and embrace whatever came my way without letting it overwhelm me. By concentrating on what truly mattered, I emerged from the semester with a newfound confidence that I knew would carry me through whatever lay ahead. College is filled with twists and turns, and there will always be moments when you feel lost or uncertain. However, during those times when life seems to spiral out of control, it’s essential to pause and ask yourself:
What brings you joy?