I wrote a letter to myself after my high school graduation. In it I detail all of the complicated emotions that I was feeling on that day. I talk a lot about how that day was one of the best days of my life, not only because I was immensely proud of my success in high school, but also because it felt like a release. I suddenly had the freedom to reinvent myself in many ways as I ventured off to college.

 

I opened that letter exactly one year after I completed high school, and I still re-read it annually. It’s funny because even though I still have three months left of college, I already know that the emotions I will feel on college graduation day will be similar but also so vastly different. Reflecting back on the entries in my honors portfolio, I’m reminded of how far I’ve come in these past four years. I thought entering college was going to be an instant reset on my life. I thought I would immediately build the community I longed for in high school, that I would be successful in my coursework, and that I would continue building up my resume for medical school. Re-reading my portfolio entry from HONORS 100, I see right through the façade I was trying to put up. I wrote about how I felt as though my roots had been planted at the UW—that I had my forever friends, that I was set on my major, that I loved the clubs I had joined—all within three short months of college. What that reflection doesn’t detail is the fact that I lacked a true community freshman and even sophomore year, I was lonely and homesick, I felt defeated because my exam scores were not what they were in high school even though I spent all of my time studying, and I was constantly comparing myself to other pre-meds in my clubs. In many ways, viewing, cultivating, and contributing to my portfolio has really been an outlet to share the ups and downs of my journey at the UW. I can see the progression as my entries became more real and raw, as the filter on my writing disintegrated, as I actually planted my roots in college. Contrary to what I wrote in HONORS 100, these roots did not develop during my freshman year, sophomore year, or even my junior year. It has only been in the past ten months that I can confidently say that I have found my place here at the UW.

 

The number one thing that I have learned in college is that growth isn’t instantaneous nor linear. It took two and a half years to discover where my academic passions lie. It took nearly three and a half years to build the community that I have always yearned for. I made friends, lost touch with friends, joined clubs, quit clubs, landed a dream research position, and failed exams. Most importantly, I learned a whole lot about who I am. I think coming to college with dreams, goals, and plans is not a bad thing—it’s good to have a sense of direction, especially if you know what you’re interested in—but college is about learning to let go of those plans. It’s about saying ‘yes’ to many things but also making the hard decision to say ‘no’ when things don’t feel right for you. It’s realizing that there’s no single, narrow path that you have to follow to find joy, passion, and success. This is why I am so glad that I have my journey documented in my honors portfolio and in my personal journal, so that I can see that progress. I can laugh at my mistakes, feel proud of the things I’ve overcome, and smile at the moments where I discovered who I am and where I’m going.

 

In three short months, I will graduate from college. Odds are I’ll probably write another letter to myself. It will most likely include sentiments on how unbelievably proud I am of my accomplishments and the utmost love, joy, and acceptance I’ve felt from a community that I know will remain in my life forever. Unlike my high school letter, I don’t think this one will talk much about that feeling of release. Sure, life post-college will include more freedom, but I don’t feel a need to reinvent myself. Rather, I already have a pretty good idea of who I am, and even though I may not know exactly where I’m going, I know the curiosity, passion, and confidence I’ve cultivated these past four years will carry me into my next adventure.