As I’m halfway through my junior year at St. Bonaventure University, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting. And by reflecting, I mean late nights of scrolling through my camera roll, reliving every year of my life since high school. Old pictures always feel so bitter-sweet to me: I get a mix of nostalgia and heartfelt memories with a hint of mourning my past self and old eras. The nightly self-reflections and hours spent in deep thought have led me to an identity crisis; I realized how much my life has changed, and specifically, how much I’ve changed.Â
Looking back on my high school years, it’s like looking at someone who is different from myself. I didn’t have it bad. I had great friends, did well in school, and excelled in running. However, I never truly felt like myself. There were challenges for sure. Although I seemed to have it all together, I struggled immensely with mental health. I went through various periods of self-isolation, crippling insomnia and anxiety, family issues, and unfortunately, was caged of my true self due to an ongoing eating disorder. It felt like the only sense of control in my life when the rest of the world felt heavy. And regarding school and running, I depended on my worth being tied to how well I performed. Entering college provided the chance for a fresh start, but the challenges I faced in high school didn’t disappear overnight.
College brought new people, a new environment, and new opportunities. But I first struggled to find my place. Part of me wanted to cling to my high school identity, resisting change, while another part held on to the version of myself I had worked so hard to create. And part of me found comfort in staying the same, but I would’ve never known what my life would look like if I didn’t break that barrier.Â
Between freshman, sophomore, and junior year, every year brought something new with new lessons learned. Each year came with many ups and downs, many of which I didn’t know how to deal with in the past. Every time I felt like I grew, I would go right back into old habits when something fell off. Like I was back to my high school self after so much progress. But each year brought more change. And I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.Â
It wasn’t until this year where I hit my breaking point and couldn’t leave my problems unnoticed–they held me back. Now, as a junior, I feel happy at who I have become. I have dedicated myself to school and running without letting it define me. I’ve found help for my insomnia. I’ve put my eating disorder behind me for good. I’ve surrounded myself with people that make me happy. And I’ve learned to not take life so seriously. And finally, I feel like myself. Now, when I have a setback, I know that I will endure through it without feeling like all my progress is lost.
When something is changing, it means it is different. And that word “different” is what I have struggled with for myself. So many times, I’ve thought to myself: “I wouldn’t do that” or “that’s not for me.” But how do I know? I’m allowed to do things differently, think differently, and act differently from what I had done in the past, and that’s the purpose of growth and change. Growth doesn’t mean eliminating the parts of yourself from the past, it’s embracing all the versions of yourself that have come before you, with every part bringing you closer to change and a better version of yourself.Â
I have a hard time letting go of the past. I think it’s because it feels like I’m leaving a part of me behind with a new me taking its place. However, I realized I didn’t lose myself, and I never have. I was completing myself–a version of me that has always been there. I’ve changed, but I’m still me.