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This has been a strange and unprecedented time. The year 2020, for the most part, has been hell on wheels. That said, the personal growth I have achieved in this one year is comparable to that of the last six years combined.
On Tuesday I deleted all of my social media. There were many factors behind this sudden decision, but the overarching one was that I felt like I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t always: I had to pretend to be okay.
What makes you feel at home? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot. I’ve never felt as homesick as I do now, and I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly changed to make me feel this way. After weeks of uneasy mornings and motivation gone out the window, I’ve finally settled on an answer: people who make me feel safe. I don’t mean physically safe; I mean safe in the I-can-let-my-guard-down sense of the word.
The past few weeks have been challenging, to say the least. The difficulties presented by the already fluid schedule of college life have only been exacerbated by the fact that I never technically have to leave my bedroom if I don’t want to. This flexibility makes it easier to procrastinate, shortens my attention span and all but kills my motivation. To add to it, the lack of human contact, or repeated contact with just a few humans, has made this somewhat dull routine even more mundane.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is a well-known cliché. Though Nietzsche was a little more eloquent in coining the phrase, this is the version that’s ingrained in our minds, thanks to Etsy’s wide array of T-shirts and pillowcases sporting it and Kelly Clarkson’s 2011 hit song. So it’s no secret in 2020 that failure is an opportunity to learn as opposed to something necessarily negative. But I’ll be the first to admit that when I’m down, I don’t want to hear that.
There’s no denying that this has been an incredibly strange summer. For me it began with frantic plane rides, a hotel quarantine and a country-wide lockdown. Everything I thought I valued and considered important was put into question. As the world battles the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, this summer has turned into an extended period of self-reflection. I understand how incredibly privileged I am to have typed that last sentence. Essential workers and healthcare workers are working tirelessly day in and day out to keep us safe and minimize the damage of this horrible virus. Yet I have the ability to wear a mask and spend time with my family and close friends.
Our semesters were cut short almost five weeks ago. Since we received that first email announcing that classes wouldn’t resume until April 12, I had been struggling with the decision to go home to Singapore. The uncertainty surrounding when the University would reopen and the perils of airports and airplanes at a time like this were some of the reasons that this decision was extremely difficult.
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind rollercoaster of emotions. I’ve felt everything from ecstatic to guilty to so upset that I found myself sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.
For the longest time, my relationship with food has been something that I’ve wanted to write about. I’ve wanted to bring it up in conversation, but I have never known how.
This is the weirdest possible time to be in a relationship. We’re adults, but not really. Still kids, but not really. Totally independent, but not really. Mature, but not really.
Sometimes it’s as simple as wishing that a pair of shoes that are currently sitting in my closet in Singapore were with me in Baltimore, and sometimes it’s wishing my mom could drive to me in three hours when I’m having a crappy mental day instead of having to travel upwards of 20 hours in cars, planes and trains to get to me.
So it’s been a stressful week (as every other week at Hopkins tends to be) and all you want to do is curl up on your couch with warm cider and watch a movie.
Let’s begin with some context: When I was 13 years old, all I wanted to be in life was a corporate lawyer. No, seriously — beyond just watching Suits, I read LSAT prep books and even joined Model United Nations (because there was no mock trial) to get some experience formulating arguments and public speaking. Then I turned 15 and was introduced to astrophysics; I’d always loved physics, but I really didn’t want to spend my life looking at hypothetical frictionless ramps, and at that point I didn’t even really think there was more to it.
The transition between sophomore and junior year has been far more daunting than the previous year’s experience; moving off campus, realizing CVS isn’t at my doorstep when I run out of toothpaste, having to pack lunch because running home in the middle of the day would take a minimum of 30 minutes and always having a mini umbrella in my purse are just a few of the things I’ve had to adjust to. Below, I’ve outlined 10 things that, in the past year, have really helped me grow as a person:
First of all, let’s get two things straight: You only know as much about a person as they choose to share with you, and money can’t buy you everything.
With the beginning of classes comes the inevitable internal struggle between focusing on academics, being social and getting enough sleep. We all go through the same thing; classwork piles up, and somehow every single party is held on the same night every single lab is due, while every friend you’ve ever made crawls out of the woodwork and wants to catch up over coffee.
This morning I emerged from the shower, fully prepared to dress myself in the clothes I had picked out last night, and paused. “What am I getting dressed up for?” I flashed back to 16-year-old me picking out high-waisted black pants from my uniform and remembered hearing, “You’re going to school, it’s not a fashion show.” Slightly reluctantly, I zipped up my red knee-high boots, wrapped my sparkly black, white and red coat around me, and tossed my tote bag on my arm.
1. Waking up an hour before you start your day will change your life. So will eating breakfast! It’ll give you a chance to recharge and mentally prepare yourself for the day.
Pre-Hopkins, whenever I was asked who my role models were, my answer was immediate; almost mechanically, I would respond with, “my mother and Audrey Hepburn.” One from real life who taught me what it is to be both strong and kind, and one who taught me what grace and elegance are but whose character I could only infer from others’ encounters.
Sometimes I feel as though I might be a naturally self-destructive person; in hindsight, some of the decisions I’ve made in the past appear completely discombobulated. In these moments, I end up simply wondering how a person could be so stupid. We all have our moments of failure big and small.