I finished sophomore year of college a lot different than the way I started it. A large part of that growth was due to my success at and newfound love for the Massachusetts Daily Collegian. While that ultimately was a much smaller part of my personality than it seemed at the time, I had the privilege and honor of being the next sports editor.
I realized that with a role of that stature — or should I just say responsibility — I needed to be on my A game almost all of the time. And quite frankly, that frightened me. Not in the sense of turning in deadlines or staying organized. I work well under pressure. It was this idea that I had to become a boss, I had to have the confidence to trust my own words and thoughts enough for an entire section to. But that was okay, I thought. I had the whole summer to change and become a new me. I thought the time away from school meant I could become this totally new badass woman who took no crap and most of all, embodied confidence on many deep levels.
I had free time ahead of me to work on that.
As August slipped away, it became abundantly clear to me that I really didn’t change much. Panic set in. My nights became restless and my anxiety only increased. I now viewed June and July as wasted time. The idea of doing anything besides becoming a stronger, better version of myself now seemed misspent.
Now here is where the problem began.
My vision of summer in May was that I would wake up every morning, maybe do some yoga. Probably have a tall glass of water with lemon, sit outside, and just stare at trees while thinking about what I was thankful for. Then, I’d spend the next two hours with podcasts lingering through my ears about self confidence, about how to be a “girlboss,” and anything that remotely mentioned a newfound love for yourself.
That was what I thought I needed. I pictured the journal entries long and lengthy about how incredibly smart and capable I was. I figured writing those words would help me think them into real life. Manifestation, as some would say. My vision of this new me seemed so attainable and so possible with some hard work.
The reality of it all is that this cookie-cutter-fake-social-media-created idea of self love and improvement can’t happen overnight. And when you have weekly therapy sessions where you sometimes feel like you are admitting you took steps backward instead of forward, that is the actual growth. I figured that podcasts would do the trick. I ignored how deeply ingrained these issues were and how unfixable things could be with just a bit of random advice and a glass of water, just like society wanted us to believe.
Why would I think that a podcast or a vitamin would mean that I am an entirely new person in just the span of a few months? Nobody can snap their fingers and become someone else, but my mind was trained to think that simple things would mean I would reinvent myself heading into what could be the most important year of my life.
I am entering October as someone who is just as vulnerable as they are confident, who has just as much anxiety as she does trust. And while the process to find a healthier balance between these polarizing traits takes longer than I thought, it doesn’t take away from anything. I grew, I changed, and I am still doing both. It doesn’t happen overnight. Celebrate any progress and all progress always.
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