A REMINDER

I was recently writing an article for my college magazine on how to be a badass. When I pitched the idea, I planned on writing abut the power of not caring what other people think. But as I started to write, I realized I was just spewing out a bunch of tired clichés that didn't even sound like me. So I started over.

They aways tell you to write what you know. And to write the truth. So here it goes...

I have a whole blog dedicated to being yourself, to being real, but the truth of the matter is... I'm still scared. I overthink. I worry about what others will say and think of me, how I'll be seen-whether or not I'm perceived as chill or cool or whatever, you name it. And, I constantly have to remind myself that I'm not the only one.

Freshman year of college was the best year of my life thus far. It was a year of great change, self-growth, new friendships and experiences, and self-discovery. But, now that I'm halfway through my first quarter of my sophomore year, I can also admit...I was numb.

After all, being numb- detaching ourselves from our emotions- is the greatest defense mechanism for our fear of being seen as our true, scared selves. We act like homesickness, insecurities, love troubles, friendship problems, don't phase us. We force ourselves to stop caring.

We determine it's the best solution, it's the best way to get through. But in reality, being numb isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's like waking up with a random bruise on your arm you don't remember getting...did you get it from when you accidentally bumped into the door, the desk?- No matter the cause, it left a mark; it's still a part of you.

Not caring is impossible; it isn't a quick fix.

My sophomore year hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows, it's been hard. I get goosebumps, I feel the heartache, the frustration, the sadness, the emptiness. I'm not numb anymore.

Feeling is difficult; it's so much easier and carefree and chill to be numb. Sometimes I want to go back to that. But the truth is, it's self-destructive. Not caring is like the numbing sensation that comes with frostbite: it slowly kills a person without them realizing it. Being numb may feel nice and reassuring, but it's not real.

Lately, I've been toiling with the pressing question that is: what now?

I consider my freshman year to have been the best year of my life thus far, but I fail to recognize that there were also a lot of bumps, stumbles, and downfalls. Freshman year was amazing but it wasn't my peak, it won't be my everything.

When we look back at our past, we may only see the good. We may look back and reminisce about how it used to be, but we have to stop. We still have so much adventure and light and love that lies ahead. We can't compare the present to the past because, we'll always be disappointed. What we felt last year or last week isn't what we'll feel today. Things change. That's life.

I know this post doesn't offer a solution. I'm not going to pretend I know exactly what to do or if there really is anything to do [after all, I'm only 19 years old; I'm still learning]. But, if there's anything you take from this post, let it be this: you aren't alone.

Remember that you can and will get out of this funk. The sophomore slump (or any kind of slump) isn't forever. It isn't permanent. Most likely, if you're having a hard time, it's because you aren't numb. And that's ok.

You're regaining the feeling in your skin and that can be painful... you feel the prick, the burning, the hurt. But you're also allowing yourself to feel the good. You're preparing yourself for the good that is to come; ready to welcome the approaching light with open arms. This isn't a stop; it's a pause.

You're growing.