I came into college a mess, but I didn’t think I was.

“I’m a mess” is a phrase we say when we think we’re falling behind. It’s a phrase we say in distress when the realization that we are juggling an unrealistic amount of tasks befalls us. It’s a phrase we quietly utter when we accept that that the things we’ve planned are starting to fall apart.

I don’t recall saying those words when I was freshman, but it’s not because I was ready from the start. It was because I was telling myself that everything was alright—that I had nothing to worry about. The plans that I had concocted for myself as early as OrSem were still in place: Dean’s List, Junior Term Abroad, minor degree—the works. But the fast-paced life of college was one that I could not get used to or rather, it was something I refused to get used to. I would go to U.P. Town before classes until I became lazy to go to class altogether, and I would skip talks and plenary lectures even when I knew they were required.

By the end of freshman year, my grades had hit a low that I initially could not accept and I had to appeal to stay in school. Upon further reflecting, it made sense. I had maximized the cuts allotted for all of my classes, I failed Math 11, and just barely got past the QPI requirement for second semester (but still not enough to pull up my first semester QPI). I felt angry then sad because deep down I only had myself to blame. The truth was that I was unprepared, lost, and needed this humbling experience.

I was a mess, I just covered it up with temporary joys.

By sophomore year, I knew I had to get it together. I started going to the library, talking to my teachers more, and asking for help when I needed it and tried giving help when someone else needed it. It was time for me to grow up, if not for myself, for my parents who are working day and night for me to stay here. I’m a senior now and I’m still lucky to be in this school. A school that, despite the occasional stress and heavy workload, I loved from the start and learned to love even more as time went by.

My internships gave me mentors that were more than happy to help me hone my passion for writing. I found my place in an org that I loved, not knowing that I would have this space to write on when I applied. I managed to keep old friends while making new friends along the way. Most importantly, I learned that when you fall down, you can get back up and then some. The silver lining to these experiences is that you have the chance to redeem yourself. I didn’t go to JTA and I definitely won’t be graduating with honors, but I still have my own achievements that I am proud of. I also learned things midway that I never thought I would get to do and these were just as satisfying.

My slip-ups caused me to lose those achievements that I had planned for myself. It’s too late to get them back now. But with graduation just around the corner, I can’t keep thinking of the what-could-have-beens; I can only be thankful for the what-has-beens and look forward to the what-will-bes.

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