It’s Thursday. It’s late at night. I’m eating today’s snack of choice, my last box of Thin Mints that I’ve been hoarding for a while. I’ve been procrastinating and watching back-to-back episodes of Gilmore Girls since 8:00 PM, avoiding my responsibilities and the fact that finals are approaching, deadlines are causing stress knots on my back, and oh yeah, that I’ve been procrastinating on this article. It’s not that I don’t want to write this article; it’s that I don’t know exactly what to write.
Ironic, isn’t it? All I’ve done for the past seven months is to be very sure about what I want to say, what I want to write, what I want to publish. But tonight, my words aren’t really cutting it. They’re a bit clumsy and all over the place, and they just won’t settle on this page. My cursor is going wild, pulsing, as I try to convey what’s going on in my mind into the words that I’ve grown so fond of writing. This feeling of uncertainty is exactly how I was feeling last year at this time, but now, I’m strangely okay with it. My cursor is blinking because I think I have too much to say and so little space, but last year was the opposite.
Last year, I felt like I was losing my voice little by little. Freshman year was disconcerting, to say the least. I did enjoy myself, but I felt like I lost myself a bit along the way. Maybe it was the whole moving-to-a-new-country part, or the fact that I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing in life part, or the fact where I started to lose confidence in my decisions and myself. When I finished the semester, I felt like I hadn’t felt for a long time – lost. But this year, I did find myself. I’ve slowly become sure of myself again, and confident with the words that I want to convey to the world. This all sounds so cheesy, and poetically clichéd, but I’m a writer. I think I have sort of paved the path to be allowed to write and say these things.
Within the last year, I’ve cut my hair. I’ve become more feminist-minded. I’ve explored Detroit, and I’ve made fabulous new friends, and maintained my strong friendships from the past, and I’ve travelled the world. I’ve declared TWO majors, and developed great relationships with my professors and at work. I’ve read beautiful books and reveled in the fall and struggled through the never-ending winter. I’ve explored who I am as a person and as a writer. And I’m so glad and proud that I had this little of the universe to write and explore these thoughts and moments in. I’ll be back next semester, hopefully with a bit more bang and a bit more oomph, a bit more adventures, and a bit more life.