I’m not the same person I was at the beginning of the semester. I don’t know where that person went, but I ask whoever has her now to keep her safe. She’s fragile. Part of me wishes to shun her, claim that this body was never her own and that it doesn’t still bear the marks of her anguish, but to do so would only diminish the purpose behind her once monumental presence. She must be recognized for who she was- the embodiment of all I wished to keep buried within, still managing to burst through the seams and be seen. I owe to her who I am today.

We cannot move forward without first acknowledging our pasts. In my case, that means facing the truth of it all. I cannot run from all that has happened. However, I can take it to heart and continue to learn from it. Everything that has happened this semester, from the pandemic to my own personal day-to-day life, has taught me something. It has taught me to be vulnerable and honest with myself. It has taught me that sometimes bad things do happen to good people. It has taught me that there are so, so many good people. It has taught me hope. 

I went into this semester with two weeks worth of clothing and an empty backpack, not expecting myself to make it past syllabus week. Each weekend was spent driving to and from my hometown and I couldn’t decide which direction I hated more. But that last night, those final few hours we had to block the world out and sink into joy before we let reality rip it away, I relished in it all. I stood on tabletops and sang Disney music at the top of my lungs side by side with strangers in the lounge of my dorm building. I held hands with my roommate and jumped from couch to couch as if we were little once more and the floor was nothing but lava. I danced and ran and cried for anyone who dared to join our mighty party of four and for once in my life I did not give a single fuck who saw me. That girl, the one who said “fuck you,” to everything and everyone who had been dragging her down and chose herself, that’s who I am now. And that’s who I want to continue to be. I know now that I am so much more than what has happened to me. Had I not walked through hell to get here, I don’t know that I would appreciate the light for all that it is. But that does not define me. I am more.