Note: Look at the alliteration in title! I'm proud of it.
Right now, I'm sitting at DCA airport. I've got an hour before my flight boards, so I thought I'd write some quick thoughts about this past semester (considering I did a "Summer 2015 Wrap-Up," it's good to keep continuity, no?).
I wish I could report back a splendid first semester of my sophomore year, but in all reality, it wasn't all that grand. There were great times, sure. But I can't write about any glowing victories, no life-transforming adventures and experiences. It was, in hindsight, one of the worse semesters I've had.
It's funny though, because I didn't really realize this fact until I was able to look at everything in hindsight and in perspective. If you printed a whole entire list of the stuff that's happened to me this semester, you'll see fairly quickly that I did not get my way in a lot of aspects in my life - professionally, personally, academically.
A slew of failures. A plethora of mistakes. Lots of tears. Despite this, I think I did one thing right. In my many moments of sadness or "defeat," I was able to pick up the pieces in order to best prepare for a better tomorrow. Hope turns people into fools, but I think it honestly makes things better in the present. I think many would describe me as foolish at times - I certainly felt that way in many instances - but I also believe that it's an odd strength of mine, to be able to recognize a crappy situation and just keep going.
Maybe it's a bad thing, but I didn't really take time to fully process everything that happened to me when it happened. I just don't operate that way. I react to said situation and immediately think about what's next in life's queue. I "bounce back" fairly quickly. I forgive and forget. I press on.
One of my favorite pieces of personal writing I have ever done was my high school "Senior Advice" blog post. In it, I was so brutally honest about my disappointments during my college application experience, and I think a lot of people connected with what I had to say. Failures are just not something you see broadcasted, ever. You see all of your friends getting bomb internships on social media, but they don't tell you they applied to 11 others and didn't hear back from them. They don't tell you that they feel unbearably lonely at times; you only see that they're living the "fun, single life" and that they're fiercely independent.
So, in the face of a not-so-great semester and the impending new year, the only thing I can do now is to do what I normally do: Bungle things, be honest about my life experiences, and be true to myself. But I didn't escape these couple of months unscathed. My ego is bruised, I've got some scars, and - more than anything - I need to escape to sunny CA to lick my wounds a little bit.
Airports are nice because they signify a change in your life - you're going someplace new or going back to a place with new adventures and experiences waiting for you. You don't know what's on the other side, but people are buzzing about, and it's a nice little spot in-limbo.
My plane is about to board. I've got no choice but to turn my back to this past semester, and put one foot in front of the other.
"If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill